Alliance of the Mockingjay, Book One
by THE-BANNED-AUTHOR
Summary: Coin is dead. Peeta and his team are prisoners of war. Katniss has dissapeared along with Gale, Johanna, Annie and Beetee. The rebellion crumbles and the Capitol reigns supreme. Five years after the failed rebellion the 79th Hunger Games begins. But the districts are still hoping for a spark of hope. A spark that could come from one of six children entering this year's Hunger Games
1. Prologue

**Alliance of the Mockingjay, Book One: The 79th Hunger Games**

**AN: I do not own any work by Suzanne Collins. I hope you enjoy this new series.**

Katniss Everdeen had infiltrated the Capitol with a team of fighters. As they made their way through the city, each member of the team was cut down and killed until only five remained. When she finally reaches the heart of the Capitol, all she has left is Cressida, a Capitol member of the camera crew; Pollux, an avox; Gale Hawthorne, her best friend from childhood; and Peeta Mellark, a Victor from 12 who until recently was her lover and is now an insane escapee of Capitol imprisonment. By now Everdeen, Hawthorne, Mellark and the two lucky survivors have been through absolute hell to get to the central of the Capitol. To the mansion where President Coriolanus Snow resides. Their friends have died, they've been hunted by Peacekeepers and muttations alike, and at any moment they could be killed.

Everdeen is not thinking straight. All she is concerned with is killing the man who has caused a lifetime of suffering. The man responsible for reaping her sister and sending her into the Hunger Games, with a debt to the boy she would have to kill to survive. He forced her to fall in love with the same boy in order to protect everyone she cared about and to subdue the Districts. And he ordered her beloved District 12, her home, to be burned to the ground.

Of course President Snow is not to blame for everything. Effie Trinket was the one who pulled her sister's name, causing Everdeen to volunteer for the Hunger Games. Haymitch Abernathy was the one who first thought of a star-crossed lovers' angle between her and Mellark. The rebels and District 13 had been the ones to make her a symbol of the revolution. And of course, she is to blame as well. For she was the one who held out those berries and gave the rebels hope. She was the one who shot the arrow and, as a result, destroyed her district. She was the one who left Peeta Mellark- one of the only people who ever loved her- behind for dead.

No, Snow is not all to blame. Katniss Everdeen knows killing him will be purely for retribution for the wrong done to her, and by her, all her life.

Everdeen is not thinking clearly. All her thoughts are consumed with Snow and the hatred she feels for the Capitol. This goes the same for Hawthorne who, although wounded, would follow Everdeen into any battle even if it meant death. Mellark is trying to control his thoughts and at the same time fight his exhaustion; figuring out what is real and what is not is a strenuous task. Pollux mourns his twin brother's death as they run further into the Capitol.

Only Cressida seems to notice how empty the streets are. Not of citizens of course and certainly not of pods. But she would expect there to be more Peacekeepers since the rebels seems to be attacking on every street. She quickly dismisses the thought as Everdeen looks for a place to hide.

Of course even if she spoke her thought aloud, there is nothing to do to stop the events that are already unfolding to cause the downfall of the rebellion.

* * *

Fulvia Cardew hides the vial in her shirt sleeve as she walks through the underground hallways of District 13. Her head is down, watching the floor, not making eye contact with the people who pass her. She is nervous about what she has to do. Nervous she'll be caught, nervous she'll freeze when the time is right. She takes a quick breath, trying to calm herself. She knew this day had to come sooner or later. All loyal citizens must do their duty to preserve the nation. Now it's her turn.

Keeping her head down, Cardew darts around two men, who seem to be talking about Beetee's newest bomb. They grow silent as she passes and her heart almost leaps out of her chest. She glances over her shoulder and sees with relief that one of the men had only dropped his clipboard and they have resumed their conversation. No one else is around by the time she reaches Heavensbee's quarters. She knocks lightly on the door and waits. Within seconds Plutarch Heavensbee has opened the door for her and she steps inside.

"What do I owe the pleasure Fulvia darling?" Heavensbee asks her.

Cardew smiles at him and straightens his tie. "President Coin wants a meeting to discuss the next move on the Capitol." She says her tone light and friendly.

"Meetings, meetings, all the time! Reminds me a bit of the Capitol when I was a younger Gamemaker." Heavensbee's eyes brighten as he speaks. "The good old days when there was no talk of rebellion. Just wine, women, and gossip. Fulvia, at times like these, I wish I could go back."

"Do you regret joining the rebellion?" Cardew asks.

Heavensbee shrugs. "It's done now. And if the rebels don't win there will be no place for me." He easies his enormous body into a chair. Cardew looks around the room and sees a decanter half full of whiskey on a tray next to the bed.

"Would you care for a glass Plutarch?" She asks, already unblocking the decanter.

Heavensbee chuckles. "Yes and pour one for yourself Fulvia darling."

Cardew makes sure her back is turned as she pours the clear liquid from the vial into his glass. The whiskey darkens for a moment then returns to its normal color. She pours herself a glass as well. "Plutarch, I have a confession to make." Cardew says, picking up the glass with the clear liquid and handing it to Heavensbee.

"Confess away dear Fulvia." Heavensbee says, taking a large gulp of the whiskey.

"I didn't thought the rebels would get this far. I always thought the Capitol would never let a district become this powerful. I thought they would have a plan to keep 13 under control."

Heavensbee tosses back the rest of his glass. "That's where many people got it wrong as well. District 13 has been very secretive and very ingenious in the how they have rebuilt their district. Not even the Capitol could have predicted they would have an adversary like 13."

The corners of Cardew's lips tug into a smile. "No. They did not." She takes Heavensbee's glass and turns away from him. "They did however predict that a rebellion would happen. So they took certain precautions against such a disaster."

"Precautions?"

Cardew pours Heavensbee another glass, then picks up her own. "Have you ever heard of sleeper agents Plutarch? I doubt you have. No one outside President Snow's inner circle would know about them." She sips from her glass.

"What do you mean Fulvia?" Cardew hears Heavensbee rise from his chair, then fall to the ground, coughing uncontrollably.

"I mean the Capitol is always ready for an attack. They are always watching. Always listening. Always ready." Cardew puts her glass back down and turns to see Heavensbee on the ground, coughing up blood. She kneels to the floor and puts her handkerchief roughly against his mouth, muffling the noise he makes.

"You were such a fool Plutarch. President Snow had given you a reward and you wasted it. And on what? A rebellion?" Cardew sees Heavensbee's eyes are wide with pain. She leans down and whispers in his ear. "This rebellion is a lost cause and you know it. You just wanted to play your next Games on a different size scale." She holds his head to her breast and strokes his hair as Heavensbee's coughing starts to subside. "I'll give you a sneak peek to who this year's Victor will be. The one who wins every year. The grand and the glorious. The Capitol."

Cardew feels Plutarch Heavensbee's life slip away in her arms and he slumps forward into her. She strokes his hair a bit more then plants a kiss on the forehead.

"If only you could be here to see it with me." She says with a hint of regret. She lowers Heavensbee to the floor and stands. Cardew starts to leave but first she grabs Heavensbee's passkey. She exits the compartment, knowing no one will find Heavensbee until it is too late.

* * *

Cardew swipes the passkey and taps in the combination to the control room. There is no one inside but that does not guarantee it will be that way for long. Cardew locks the door and rushes over to the P.A. system. It's a simple red-button-and-microphone box at the front of the room. Still she has to insert the passkey and type in code that will broadcast to not only the floor she is on, but to all of District 13.

Cardew licks her lips and presses the button.

"White rose." She says into the microphone. "White rose. White rose."

* * *

Everyone in 13 hears the usual crackle of the P.A. system. This is usually followed by an announcement for certain people to meet in Command from one of President Coin's cronies. But instead Fulvia Cardew's voice rings out clear as a bell.

On the first "white rose" the citizens who had until six weeks ago been citizens of District 12, immediately fall silent. The rest of the citizens of 13 grow quiet as they notice that some of the citizens around them have frozen in place.

On the second "white rose" the frozen citizens snap up and turn to face the nearest District 13 citizen.

On the third "white rose" the citizens of 12 lunge and attack the citizens of 13.

Despite their training, the citizens of 13 are taken completely off guard by 12's attack. It is not just the soldiers who attack, but the women and children as well. They attack those of 13 with flailing fists and are relentless if they have to pursue. Some of 12 had been holding objects such as pencils, knives and needles which are used to stab citizens of 13. In a hands-on weapons class, three students open fire on the rest of their classmates.

District 13 citizens still defend themselves rather well. Those who are able to disarm their attacker are quick to incapacitate and bind them up so they will not harm themselves and others. However they are not aiming to kill as the 12's are. A woman takes out a man's eye in the cafeteria while a man wraps his hands around another's throat and chokes him. Greasy Sae seems to have lost her mind as she brandishes a soup ladle and chases the other cooks around the kitchen. Even sweet Prim Everdeen punches one of her classmates in the eye. A door bursts open and the three children of 12, from the weapons class, run out shooting at every citizen of 13 in sight.

Just when the 13's are able to regroup and strike back, doors to the above ground open and Capitol Peacekeepers flood into the underground hallways. They do not seem to care which citizens are on their side. The Peacekeepers open fire on the groups of soldiers from 13 and the former citizens of 12, killing and fatally injuring too many to count.

* * *

Johanna Mason bolts up in her hospital bed as she sees Mrs. Everdeen attack a doctor and cut his throat with a scalpel.

"Shit." She says, tearing off the IV's attached to her and swinging her legs off the bed. She stands and grabs a needle, jabbing it into Mrs. Everdeen's neck. The sleeping solution does not take long to hit the woman. She slumps into Mason's arms and passes out. Mason lifts Everdeen onto the bed and buckles the wrist and ankle straps around her.

Mason next kneels down by the doctor but he is already dead. She stands and looks around her. The rest of the ward is empty. Grabbing the scalpel covered with the doctor's blood-not much of a weapon but it will have to do for now- Mason leaves the hospital ward and makes for the nearest stairway. She climbs the stairs hearing the sounds of battle all around her. She lifts the scalpel to guard herself as she opens another door.

She recognizes Leevy from 12 as the big girl attacks her. Mason catches her arm and throws the girl over her shoulder. Another man jumps on her from behind. She backs up into a wall and hits his head against it. He lets go of her and slides down. Mason sprints through the hallways, seeing Capitol Peacekeepers cutting down citizens 13 and 12. Out of the corner of her eye, she spots Posy Hawthorne caught in the crossfire. Without thinking she scoops the girl up and carries her over her shoulder.

However the little Hawthorne girl starts flailing in her arms, her legs kicking her stomach.

"Oof! What is with you 12's today?" She sets Posy down on the ground, trying to keep ahold of her. "Why is your district attacking? Did the Capitol put you up to this?" Mason asks shaking Posy's shoulders. Posy does not say anything. She spits in Mason's face.

Mason grits her teeth, fighting the urge to slap the brat. "Listen you little-" Posy tears away from Mason and runs down the rest of the hallway.

"Hey! Get back here!" Mason groans and wipes the spit off her face. "What the hell is going on?"

She chases after Posy but stops when she hears a blood curdling scream. "Annie!" She yells, spotting Annie Odair trapped in a corner by a man holding a knife above her head. Mason runs up and slits the man's throat with the scalpel. With a hideous sounding gurgle, he falls to the ground and drops the knife.

"Annie, Annie calm down." Mason says holding Annie's shoulders. "It's just me, it's just Johanna. I'm not gonna let anyone else hurt you."

Even though Annie's eyes are filled with fear, there is a glimmer of recognition when she sees Mason.

"Annie, listen to me. Look at me Annie." Mason forces Annie to look her directly in the eye. "Annie you need to tell me what happened. Annie, _tell me_."

"They-them from 12. From District 12. They attacked all of us." Annie says in a shaky voice. "They all just stopped what they were doing then stood really still and attacked."

"Did they get a message or something? Did you see or hear anything?"

Annie nods. "White rose. White rose. It was said three times over the P.A. system." Annie buries her head into Mason's shoulder. "I want Finnick! I need him!"

"Shush." Mason quiets Annie. "It's okay, we'll find him. We need to get out of here first. Annie look at me." Annie lifts her head. "Can you walk?" Annie nods and whimpers.

Mason helps Annie stand up then grabs the knife from the dead man. She looks around the hallway. "This way." She says, taking Annie's hand and leading her through the halls.

Mason walks quickly through 13's maze of hallways, avoiding as much fighting as she can; for Annie's sake. She sees citizens of 12 and 13 battling in the corridors. At one point she spots a squadron of Peacekeepers. She pushes Annie through a doorway of an elevator and punches the top button.

"Hold the door!" Someone shouts from the hallway. Recognizing the voice, Mason thrusts out her hand so the elevator door does not close all the way. Beetee wheels himself into the elevator and she pushes the button again. The doors close before the Peacekeepers could catch them.

"Hello Miss Mason. Mrs. Odair." Despite having a few cuts on his face, Beetee looks unharmed and unfazed by the attack.

"Volts I never thought I'd be so glad to see you." Mason says.

"And you Johanna. I suspect you've realized our predicament."

"Something turned the District 12 citizens from sweet little district miners to highly trained killers." Mason says. "Some kind of code word said over the P.A. system."

"Yes," Beetee nods. "And if you haven't noticed there are Capitol Peacekeepers in the hallways. Also…you aren't wearing any clothes."

Mason realizes she is still in her hospital gown but brushes that aside. "They must have been planning this for a long time."

"What do we do?" Annie asks.

"We can do nothing to stop it. District 13 will fall." Beetee's voice is full of regret. "We can at least escape before they start capturing and executing the traitors."

"Right." The elevator doors open. A Peacekeeper spots them but before he can raise the alarm Mason throws the knife into his head. Annie's breath hitches but Mason squeezes her hand and puts her finger to her lips.

"We need to be very quiet." Beetee says, as he leads the way to the Hangar. Mason follows, pulling Annie along behind her. The Hangar hasn't been discovered by all the Peacekeepers yet. Beetee gestures to the closest hover craft and the three Victors climb up the ramp. There is one Peacekeeper aboard, sitting in a chair his back turned to them. Mason snaps his neck before he sees them and throws him off the deck.

"Do you know how to fly one of these things?" Johanna asks Beetee.

"Theoretically yes. However from this chair I doubt I could manage." Beetee looks at Johanna. "If you flew Johanna, I could probably tell you how to operate the hovercraft."

Mason grits her teeth. "Fine."

With Beetee's help, Mason raises the ramp and lifts the hovercraft into the air. Annie closes her eyes and puts her hands over her ears. She remains that way the whole flight.

No Peacekeeper seems to notice the lone hovercraft rise up and fly into the sunrise.

* * *

President Coin has been barricaded in her office for her own safety. She watches her screen intently as it switches from each surveillance camera, showing her the massacre of her people. Suddenly the door in front of her explodes, throwing the barricade of boxes into the air. The Peacekeepers enter the room, clearing the doorway so that Fulvia Cardew can step through.

Coin had ducked beneath her desk to avoid getting hit by shrapnel. She stands quietly, her gray eyes sweeping the room, taking a count of the Peacekeepers surrounding her. "So this was the plan." She says, glancing at Cardew. "The Capitol couldn't find a way to get into my district so they send in a spy in the form of a Capitol bottom-feeder."

Cardew smiles coldly at Coin. "But you never could tell could you Alma? I fooled everyone. Even Plutarch."

"Plutarch wouldn't know a spy if it bit him in the rear." Coin says. "Which I assume, might have been one of your many duties."

"Don't pretend Alma. You were fooled too. Sure you had Plutarch checked out before you hired him, but you never suspected to his little assistant. She was beneath your notice." Cardew tells Coin. "President Snow thought you would be that arrogant."

Coin knows she is right. She should have been more watchful of Fulvia Cardew. "You played your part perfectly." She tells Cardew. "And the citizens of 12?"

Cardew nods. "Why do you think we let so many of them survive? Honestly Alma, did you realize they were in the woods around 12 for three days? Anything could have happened to them."

"What did you do? Bribe them?" Coin asks.

Cardew shakes her head. "Even if we convinced them to fight for us they would be too frightened. They don't even know they are attacking now."

"Ah I see," Coin smirks. "Sleeper agents. Crude, Fulvia, but effective. I should have guessed."

"The use of sleeper agents is only known to the Capitol. We've been using them since the dawn of Panem."

"And no one would suspect them, since the even the sleeper agents do not know what they are."

"Indeed." Cardew sighs. "And now, Alma, I'm afraid the time has come for you to surrender, or your whole district dies."

Coin stares coldly at Cardew. Without a single word, she opens a drawer and pulls out a slip of paper. "Snow was supposed to sign this when we took the Capitol. But seeing as I am President as well, my signature will suffice." Coin signs the paper and hands it to Cardew. "I surrender District 13 to you Fulvia Cardew. Now would you kindly order your soldiers to stop attacking my people?"

"Sergeant please take President Coin into custody." Cardew orders the Peacekeeper next to her. "And as soon as the citizens of 12 are back to normal round them up in the mess hall with the rest of 13. Keep a sharp eye out for any other attacks. Shoot anyone who tries to escape. Thank you." The Peacekeeper nods to her. Coin feels something slip around her wrists and then hears the familiar click of handcuffs.

"When you hear the signal, walk her out in front of everyone to see." With that Cardew leaves the room. Coin stands quietly, the Peacekeepers watching her. After a minute she hears Cardew's voice ring out over the P.A. system.

"Dead rose! Dead rose!" As those words are spoken, the citizens of 12 freeze and seem to come out of a dreamlike state, looking around and seeing the bodies of dead and injured around them.

The Peacekeepers march Coin out into the hallways. The citizens watch silently as she is ushered through the hallways by Capitol Peacekeepers, the sure sign of surrender. Cardew waits for her at the end of a hallway.

"Your presence is requested in the Capitol, President Coin." Cardew says with a smirk. Coin's face is expressionless as Cardew leads the way to the Hangar. One soldier of 13 slumps against the wall, looking almost dead. He aims his gun and fires. The bullet goes straight through Cardew's temple and she drops to the ground. The soldier takes a last breath before the Peacekeepers open fire on him.

Alma Coin chuckles. Then she bursts into laughter, doubling over, and tears springing to her eyes, as if the death of Fulvia Cardew was the funniest thing she had ever seen.

* * *

However, neither Johanna Mason nor Alma Coin could know that in the districts Head Peacekeepers receive the alert to awake the sleeper agents in the rest of the districts. One by one the rebels are overwhelmed by the sleeper agents who were once their fellow citizens. Slowly the rebels fall and are replaced by the Peacekeepers. After a week the Peacekeepers have reclaimed the districts and the rebels have been captured or executed.

The rebels in the Capitol only take one day to surrender.

* * *

Everdeen and her team emerge from the Tigris's shop, disguised in warm Capitol style clothing for the harsh cold weather. They merge in with the crowd and go their separate ways. Everdeen and Hawthorne make sure to stand by each other so they are not separated. There is a blast as the rebels attack once again. Everdeen and Hawthorne break into a run dodging bullets from both Peacekeepers and rebels.

Suddenly, dozens of hovercrafts appear in the sky. They lower to the ground and the ramps slide out. Hundreds of Peacekeepers march down the ramps and fire into the rebel troops. Capitol citizens are caught in the crossfire. Blood spurts, women scream, soldiers cry out in pain. Everdeen and Hawthorne sprint through the crowds, taking out their bows from their cloaks. Everdeen and Hawthorne do not realize that the rebel forces are not able to fight off the new Peacekeeper forces.

Hawthorne shoots a passing Peacekeeper with one of his arrows and pushes Everdeen ahead of him. "There's too many of them!" He shouts to Everdeen. "We won't be able to reach the mansion!"

"We have to try!" Everdeen shouts back to him. She sheds the outer Capitol clothes so she can quicker. "Let's move!" She shouts to Hawthorne as he takes off the heavy cloak he is wearing.

Just then a hovercraft lands directly in front of them. Everdeen reaches for an arrow as the ramp descends. But it is just Johanna Mason that runs down the ramp.

"We need to go. _Now_." She says to them.

"Back to 13?" Hawthorne asks.

Mason shakes her head and starts to shiver in her hospital gown. "No time to explain. We need to leave before someone spots us!"

Hawthorne opens his mouth to contradict her but seeing the panicked expression on Mason's face he stops. "You'll tell us everything if we come with you?"

"I promise I will. Now _move_!"

Hawthorne nods and starts walking up the ramp. He pauses then turns when he realizes Everdeen is still on the ground. "Katniss you heard her! We need to go!"

"But Peeta is still out there!" Everdeen shouts back to him. "I can't let Snow get to him! Not again!"

"We'll try and find him later!" Hawthorne says, although he knows they will probably not return to the Capitol once they take off. Everdeen knows this as well.

"We have to find him Gale! I left him once I'll never do it again!" Everdeen turns and starts to head back into the crowd.

"Oh for the love of…." Mason runs after Everdeen. "Mockingjay! Hey, wait up!"

Everdeen turns, a sour expression on her face. "What?" Mason punches her in the jaw and Everdeen hits the ground, unconscious.

"_Johanna, what the_ _fuck do you think you're doing?_" Hawthorne starts down the ramp as Mason picks Everdeen up.

"We're running out of time! Go!" Hawthorne and Mason run back up the ramp with Everdeen in tow and Beetee lifts the ramp. Mason lays Everdeen down across a row of seats then sits in the pilot's chair. Hawthorne walks up to her his face red with anger.

"Johanna-"

"Don't start with me Pretty Boy, I have to get this thing in the air!"

"You attacked Katniss!"

"She was being unreasonable!"

"And you don't think attacking her was unreasonable?"

"I saved your life, boy, be grateful!"

"Stop it! Both of you! Please!" Annie screams, taking her hands away from her ears. Hawthorne and Mason stare at the frightened young woman.

Mason grunts, "I'll stop. Just leave the questions till we get far enough away." Hawthorne glares at Mason but says nothing.

"Gale." Hawthorne turns when Annie speaks to him. "Gale did Finnick…was he…is he…?" Hawthorne shakes his head. Annie buries her head in her hands and begins to sob. Beetee wheels his chair over and puts a consoling arm around her. Even Mason has the tact to stay quiet as Annie cries over her lost love.

When Annie's sobs quiet, Hawthorne walks over to Mason and sits in the chair next to her. "What happened?" He asks in a much softer tone.

Mason looks at him. "13 is dead." She says quietly. Hawthorne draws in a sharp breath then exhales. "How?" Mason shrugs. "They were overwhelmed. The people from 12 went insane and started killing people. Then the Peacekeepers showed up and it was all over."

"What do you mean 'went insane'?"

"I have no idea what happened to them. Beetee suspects they were sleeper agents." Mason regards him. "You might be one too."

"I-I don't…I don't understand."

"Your people were brainwashed. At least for that amount of time. Everyone who escaped 12 attacked the other district members. Even the children. I saw Katniss's mother cut a doctor's throat. Even your little sister spat at me."

"Posy? But-"

"13 is dead." Mason repeats. "For good I think this time. There will be no recovering. We…we lost." There is a moment of silence only interrupted by Annie's sniffles.

"We can't go back, can we?" Hawthorne asks. "For our families."

"I'm afraid not." Beetee says quietly. "District 13 isn't safe anymore."

"Panem isn't safe at all." Mason adds.

"Then, where do we go?" Annie asks. That simple, almost childish, question turns out to be the hardest one to answer.

**Hello everyone! I am Jacky Dupree, the "banned" author of fanfiction. I know I have been gone for several months now but I am back! And better than ever! I've decided to keep writing, but very slowly churning out chapters. Making them worth the wait. I've worked on this prologue for almost a month, trying for the perfect beginning. I think it was well worth the wait. **

**Now about this fanfiction, THIS IS NOT AN SYOT. I repeat THIS IS NOT AN SYOT. Reason? I have discovered I cannot write about other characters that are not mine. It is hard for me to connect to them. Also I got a lot of unintended Sue's as characters that I tried to make sense of and failed. I had a good story for **_**We All Fall Down: Tale of the 150th Hunger Games**_**. However it was deleted. I'm not sure of the exact reason. But it was a blessing in disguise. Now I have this little fic. Well I wouldn't call it little.**

_**The 79th Hunger Games**_** is the first in the series. I will write three books of **_**The Alliance of the Mockingjay**_**. As you have probably guessed this is an alternate ending to **_**The Mockingjay**_** and the rest of the series will be slightly AU. This is the story I want to concentrate on the most. I will start other fics, but this comes first. This prologue turned out to be longer than I expected but I like how it turned out. My next chapter will show what happens five years from where we left off. What happens after a failed rebellion? Do the districts just give in to the Capitol's will? Or is there still a spark?**

**If anyone wishes to know what I was going to do with **_**We All Fall Down: Tale of the 150th Hunger Games**_** you can PM me and I'll give you a brief (well this prologue was supposed to be brief so you know what to expect) summary.**

**Thank you for reading.**

**-Jacky Dupree, THE-BANNED-AUTHOR**


	2. Part One The Reapings

**Alliance of the Mockingjay, Book One: The 79****th**** Hunger Games**

**AN: I do not own any work by Suzanne Collins. I hope you enjoy this new series.**

Part One

The Reapings

**This is just a place holder for the next chapter. For now.**

**-Jacky Dupree**


	3. Chapter One

**Alliance of the Mockingjay, Book One: The 79****th**** Hunger Games**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Hunger Games**_**. I hope you enjoy this new series.**

In President Snow's opinion, the idea of retirement was rather dull. He had been the President of Panem for over 40 years, the longest as President had ever been in office. He was a man who had done everything. So doing nothing to him was boring.

As a very young- very handsome- man he had risen up the political ladder to achieve goals no normal man could ever dream of. The things he had seen, the things he had done, had turned him into the sly, cold-hearted snake the districts were well acquainted with. At first it had merely been a bit of bribery here, blackmail there, a night spent in a sleazy motel with the wife of a senator, the poison poured into the glass of an important businessman. Nothing else an ordinary politician wouldn't have normally done. He used the press to his advantage as well, exposing the distinguished politicians for the rotten criminals they were. Snow used to love walking around the crowds, shaking people's hands, blowing puffy kisses to his adoring audience. The Capitol citizens loved him. Senator Coriolanus Snow, the People's Man.

At that time, for Snow, it was all just a bit of fun, ruining the old fools in charge of him while the crowds cheered his name. He was loved by everyone. His opinions on politics to fashion were craved by the media. He was invited to all the biggest social events, sought to be seen with for photos by all the biggest celebrities, and even found himself in bed with many female models and victors. Snow had it all. Everything. And then he decided to run for President. That is when Snow's skin shed into that of a snake's. He realized running for President meant he would be as exposed as he had made his previous opponents. The press, who had once been Snow's friend, ripped him to pieces. He found himself on the cover of a popular tabloid magazine with a young prostitute on his arm. The girl was no more than 14 years old. Of course this is absolutely normal behavior for a young, single man of the Capitol, but the public was shocked. Snow had gone from the People's Man into a pedophile in a matter of weeks.

A good man would have admitted he made a mistake. An ordinary man would have made a counter attack on his opponent. But not Snow. He met with the editor of the magazine a week after the article had been published. Two days later the magazine came out with an article, apologizing to Senator Snow and revealing the prostitute had confessed to being hired by one of Snow's opponents. The magazine also came out with an article telling all about the opponents secret meetings with young Avox boys in the men's public restroom. The opponent dropped out of the race and gave up his position as a senator. The editor of the magazine was found in his apartment, hanging from the fan with a noose around his throat. The Peacekeepers assumed it was suicide and from the note he had left the man had been extremely depressed. The prostitute, who really was 14, was never seen again.

That was the way Snow worked. He eliminated his opponents one by on and not just by exposing the skeletons in their closets. One opponent choked on a plate of shrimp and stopped breathing even when Senator Snow tried to revive him. One was shot by another candidate claiming he had had an affair with his wife. The murderer was put in jail and was later sentenced to death by Snow. One famous case was when Snow drank from the same poisoned glass that killed an ally of his. One by one, they all fell, until Snow was running unopposed. He became President Snow. But that was not enough for him. It would never be enough.

* * *

Snow never tells the press his age because- truthfully- he has never really known, nor cared. He has never felt old in his life, not even during the later years of his Presidency. But as the 79th Hunger Games approach, Snow feels his age creep up on him. He has a bad case of arthritis in his right knee, so bad he has to use a cane to walk. His stylists have to use more age defying crème then they had to years ago. The longer he is up and walking, the more he wishes he could just sit back and rest. And for the past five years he has been coughing up blood. The attacks started during the rebellion after the 75th. He thought it might have been just the stress but no. His body is done. He is tired. Some days he just wants it all to be over.

Everyone can see it as well. President Snow could die any day. Or worse he could go senile and order the nuclear missiles to destroy the districts. Not that he didn't have thoughts about doing that when he wasn't senile. Snow doesn't want to retire. What would he do? Sit by a window in a wheelchair everyday being forced to eat by some peppy nurse who spoke in chirps? The idea does not please him in the slightest. But he knows he has to. The people of Panem demand it. And he has always been the People's Man.

He announced his retirement shortly after the 78th (Snow has never bothered to remember the actual years, only thinking of them by the Hunger Games he has been alive for). Almost immediately, politicians started coming out of the woodwork to be candidates in the next election for President of Panem. Snow liked to think of this political race as one giant Hunger Games. There were even 24 candidates to start with this time. They used the cruelest possible ways of eliminating the others to win. And the final two are always the most exciting to watch.

This year the two candidates are Persea Esperanza and Lucian Caligula. As Snow watches their speeches he realizes he likes Caligula better than Esperanza. Both are of course charming and charismatic and the Capitol people love them. However Esperanza, Snow thinks, is much too intelligent and passionate for a proper presidential candidate.

Esperanza is a very beautiful woman, her skin the color of mocha, her lips plump and red, her eyes a nice chocolate brown, and a well curved figure, which is a nice change from the women who starved themselves to look thin. A news article about Esperanza says that she was an orphan in District 7 and was adopted by a Capitol woman who couldn't have children. It would explain her pro-district leanings, which is another reason why Snow does not like her. Pro-district meant she would want to spend more money rebuilding the districts and paying the district workers an actual wage. She would let them keep a bigger share of their own produce instead of giving most of it to the Capitol. She would even, if she thought it necessary, stop the Hunger Games. Snow knew that would not be a good thing. The Games were the only thing keeping the districts and citizens of the Capitol in line. You keep the districts under your foot and keep the Capitol well fed. It is well balanced out.

Esperanza's main platform is to restore Panem to its former glory. The glory it had before the Dark Days. Her slogan is _Paciencia y Fe_, "patience and faith". Snow does not like this woman. If he had his way he would strip her of her rank and deport her back to District 7 and make her chop wood until her arms fell off. But the Capitol people love her and because of her district heritage, consider her an "exotic", with her beautiful skin and strange accent. Snow knows it was a good thing the district people do not pay attention to the elections or they would be even harder to contain. Luckily only Capitol citizens are given the right to vote.

The other candidate, Lucian Caligula (who is several years older than Esperanza), is a much better candidate in Snow's opinion. He is incredibly handsome- even a rival to Finnick Odair's looks- with a wide smile and the whitest teeth in the Capitol. His black hair is starting to go gray at the temples which only made him look more distinguished but his gray eyes were as bright as they were in his youth. He disagrees with Esperanza, saying Panem has always been glorious after the Dark Days and why change that? It could cause another rebellion and the Dark Days would return and we wouldn't want that.

However, Snow knows that there had never been an original thought in his pretty little head. Sure, he is a brilliant speaker but that is about all there is to Caligula. For all his life Caligula has been given freebies and has never made a single decision. His stylists pick out his clothing, his press secretary picks the events he makes appearances at, and his advisors choose his political moves. In other words Caligula is the perfect puppet. And Snow wants to be the one pulling the strings. Caligula has already, very publicly, asked President Snow if he would advise him during his first few terms if elected. Snow wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

"President Snow is here to see you." Head Gamemaker Cassandra looks up from her desk and to the messenger standing in her doorway. "Tell him I'm busy Klaus." She says shortly, looking back to the young man sitting in front of her. Gamemaker Nicholas grimaces. "Cassie, I promise, I won't do it again!"

"Nicholas I am your superior and you will address me as such." Cassandra leans forward to talk to him. "This is the third time you've been drunk during a meeting and something needs to be done. I can't keep making excuses for your behavior."

"Cassie-"

"Head Gamemaker Cassandra."

"Fine, _Cassandra_, I have a good excuse."

"Oh do you? Let's hear it, I could use a good laugh." Cassandra says bitterly.

"President Snow really needs to see you Ma'am." The messenger says, looking very nervous.

Cassandra sighs. "Fine, send him in. Oh and Klaus," Her golden-brown eyes hold his. "It's Miss Cassandra, I'm not old enough to be Ma'am yet."

The messenger gulps. "Yes Miss Cassandra." He leaves her office quickly.

Nicholas stands. "So I'm assuming we're done here."

Cassandra nods. "This is the last time I'm letting you off the hook Nicholas. Don't forget I am the one who holds your contract."

"Yeah I know. I'm sorry Cassi- Cassandra. It won't happen again, I swear."

"Don't bother giving me the rest of the speech Nic, I've heard it all before." Cassandra spots Snow waiting in her doorway. Panem knows she can't keep _him _waiting. "You're dismissed but I will be watching you."

Nicholas nods. He starts to go then turns back. "By the way, Alice and I are going out to dinner tonight. Do you want to join us?"

Cassandra's eyes flit to Snow before she answers. "I'm afraid I can't, I have a lot of work to do."

"If you say so. I'll see you later Miss Head Gamemaker." Nicholas walks out of her office. As he does, he passes President Snow. Cassandra wonders if it was her imagination but did Nic's face darken as he saw the older man?

Cassandra stands as President Snow walks in. "President Snow, an honor as always." She says shaking his hand.

"Yes yes as always. You may sit Gamemaker Cassandra." Typical, _he _ was telling her to sit in _her_ office. Snow sat down in the padded chair and rested his cane on the arm. "Busy day today?" He asks her.

Cassandra sat in her chair. "A bit more than usual. Today were the reapings after all."

"Yes we had to have plenty of coverage for that." Snow sits back in his chair. "What did you think of the pair from 8?"

"Stronger than usual, possible contenders. But the ones from 1 and 2 and the boy from 4 are much more likely to be favorites."

"Are there any more that stick out in your mind?"

Cassandra thinks about this for a moment. "The boy from 11 was very good looking, he'll get plenty of sponsors. The girl from 4 has an interesting background. And the young boy from 5 seems like," _Like you President Snow_ Cassandra is tempted to say, "like someone with a dark personality disorder. I'll have to look into that."

"Yes and what about the girl from 12."

Cassandra has to repress a groan. Ever since Katniss Everdeen, Snow has had an unhealthy obsession with the girl tributes from 12. Like every one of them could be the same archer that almost destroyed his Capitol. "Quiet, unusually composed, maybe has a talent hidden up her sleeve. But I doubt it. She probably was still in shock when she walked up to the stage. The boy seems more interesting than her."

This is clearly not the answer Snow was looking for. His eyes narrow before he asks the next question. "And did you recognize either of the tributes from 10 at all?"

Cassandra holds his gaze, keeping her face expressionless, though inside she is filled with rage. "No. No I don't."

Snow is not fooled. He knows he struck a weak spot in Cassandra's shield. Maybe her only weak spot. "You never return my invitations for lunch anymore Cassandra." He says, smoothly changing the subject.

"I've been busy. You've probably heard from my mother that I haven't been able to visit her for a while." Truthfully Cassandra has been avoiding all social invitations for the past year. She preferred to be alone in her office, working (or at least pretending to work) on aspects of the arena, with a glass of whiskey on her desk and an old record playing. Usually something by Strauss or Tchaikovsky. Music from before the Dark Days.

"Well I'm assuming most of your work is done for now." Snow says to her. "Join me for lunch. I know an excellent bistro not far from here. Very popular with the people."

_Popular with the people, _Cassandra thinks, _meaning the press would be there to see President Snow and his Head Gamemaker having a celebratory lunch_. They have a very close bond you know. Snow is almost a grandfather to her. When he had picked her for the 78th, everyone had been surprised. Until they had found out how close and comfortable Cassandra and Snow were. At least that's what was published in the papers.

But Cassandra does not like Snow. She doesn't really despise him; just dislikes him. She dislikes the way he slowly but surely was able to snatch up all the power to himself while smiling for the cameras. She dislikes the way he looks at people, like he is examining a mouse before eating it. She dislikes how he walks, even with a cane he still has that intimidating stride. She dislikes his breath, the mix of roses and blood that she smells quite often around him. But most of all she dislikes how clever he is, especially when it concerns her. By making her Head Gamemaker, not only would she constantly have to put on a smile and act like she was content, but he would be able to keep a watchful eye on her. He would make her into another of his puppets, only following his orders and giving a good image to the papers. If he thought she would become his new toy, he was wrong.

But instead of refusing, Cassandra stands up from her chair. "We'd better get going if we want to get a table outside then." She says, helping him up from his chair.

* * *

The waiter at the restaurant was thrilled to be serving the President and his Head Gamemaker, as were most of the staff and the owner. They were given the best outdoor table on a beautiful garden patio, which now they sit at and make small talk. Mostly about Cassandra, her mother, her work, parties she's been to, lovers she's had and would she be willing to let Snow set her up with a young victor?

"That's not necessary." Cassandra says, shaking her head. "I think I can get my own man." She grins and throws a wink to the reporters and cameramen starting to crowd at the gate to the outdoor patio.

Snow laughs. "Well you better find one soon. We wouldn't want that beauty to go to waste would we?"

Cassandra smiles. "Thank you for the compliment, but I say as long as I'm young and beautiful I should have some fun before taking the dreaded walk down the aisle." She hears some chuckles from the reporters.

"You won't be young forever, Cassandra, believe me." Snow says. "You're twenty-seven years old. I bet your mother has been nagging you to settle down by now."

"Of course she has. But I just tell her I'm waiting for the right man. And so far he hasn't come along."

Snow chuckles. "Are you sure about that my dear?" He says looking hard into her eyes.

Cassandra nods and closes her eyes for a brief moment, she can't show her temper around so many people. "Positive." She looks at him. "Anyway President Snow you weren't married until you were almost forty. I don't think you're the one to talk to me about settling down."

Snow reaches over and pats her hand. "I'm just looking out for your best interests my dear." He says his tone a bit softer, more like fatherly concern for his child. The women reporters cannot help but "Awww" at this scene.

Cassandra can play this game just as well as Snow can. She grips his hand in hers. "I know Mr. President." She says her golden brown eyes boring into his.

_Well done_, Snow thinks hearing the applause from the crowd. Their lunch is brought over, giving each of them a break from this charade so they can eat.

This is exactly why Snow needs her. She is just as clever and charismatic as he is to the crowds, but also as cold hearted and stern behind closed doors. Her temper flares, like his, and they both have figured out ways to hide it. Normally he would try to eliminate Cassandra. But by making her Head Gamemaker, he can keep a close watch on her and also try to sway her to his side. Who knows? Maybe when Caligula is elected, he will appoint Cassandra as Head Gamemaker once again. Then it would be the three of them ruling over Panem. With Caligula as his mouth piece and Cassandra as his partner, nothing would stop him. The only problem is getting her to his side. She is stubborn and would take a lot of convincing. But Snow has all the time in the world.

**A shorter chapter yes. I felt like I needed to write some of Snow's personal history and once I got going I couldn't stop. I think I might write a story about Senator Snow before he ran for President.**

**Also Cassandra and Nicholas will both be playing important parts in this story, particularly during the Games. But you must be thinking "DUH Jacky they are the Gamemakers after all." Yep sure. But Cassandra has a personal vendetta that will play into the story and Nicholas has a very deep, dark secret. **

**The next chapter we will finally see the tributes. Not all of the tributes. Once again, this is not an SYOT. I will only be concentrating on the main characters of the story. You will also get glimpses of the secondary characters, but I will introduce most of them during the chariot rides.**

**Thank you Sallen and IAmTheAngelWithBrokenWings for reviewing this story and following this story AND ****favoriting****this story. Really helped my confidence to see your review. It was kinda disappointing that not a lot of people read this. So if you are liking what you're reading, review and tell your friends! It would mean a lot. I'm not gonna pretend; reviews are like oxygen to us fanfiction writers. **

**Well I better get this uploaded, the library is closing!**

**Anyway, I will see all you lovely people next chapter! If this story does not get deleted for my rambling!**

**- THE-BANNED-AUTHOR, formerly known as Jacky Dupree**


	4. Chapter Two

**Alliance of the Mockingjay, Book One: The 79****th**** Hunger Games**

**Disclaimer: I do not own **_**The Hunger Games**_**. I hope you enjoy this new series.**

After the rebellion was put down mercilessly by the Capitol, the citizens of all twelve districts began to rebuild. They were not allowed pay and were required to work eight hours a day, repairing the damages the war had brought. Every citizen at the age of 12 and older reported to the District Square, where they were assigned a section of the district they would work at for that day. Then they set to whatever task they were given, only being given one break for lunch. Men would usually work on the repair of Peacekeeper houses, Victor mansions, factories, and the Justice Building. The women cleaned up the rubble where bombs had been dropped and restored any place that was used for the district's export. Families were responsible for rebuilding their own homes. And while all this went on, the citizens also were set to work chopping, mining, building, harvesting their main export to send to the Capitol.

The Capitol, also having been destroyed during the war, was rebuilt mainly by Avoxes and the prisoners of war that had not been executed. It was said that before Coin's public death by a firing squad, she had been forced to repair Snow's mansion, along with many Victors and Capitol citizens that were on the rebellion's side. After she was executed, Snow released the Victors back to their districts as a truce. This was seen by the Capitol citizens as kindness. However, to the districts, who saw the broken, weakened Victors as they returned from the Capitol; they knew there was no such kindness. The strongest of them had been broken they brought with them a promise. The next Hunger Games would be the bloodiest, most brutal in Panem's history.

Snow made good on that promise. A year later the 76th Hunger Games began. 24 tributes went into the arena. 13 died during the Bloodbath, which was held on a ledge above a pit of snakes. The 11 remaining were forced to endure torture at every step. Betrayal was the theme of those Games. Alliances were made and then viciously broken. The Gamemakers made sure that more than one tribute died by the muttations. The final two were both from District 12, as ironic as it seemed. At the last moment, the boy refused to fight his partner, turned his back and allowed the girl to slit his throat. He bled out and the girl from District 12 won the Hunger Games. She had no time to celebrate her victory though. The hovercraft was ready to take her back to the Capitol when she used the knife on herself as well,slicing into an artery. She died on an operating table; the Capitol physicians finally gave up trying to revive her after almost four hours. There was a memorial for her in the Capitol. Citizens praised her bravery yet wept at her suicide. Neither Snow nor Haymitch Abernathy, the girl's mentor, attended the memorial.

Despite Snow's hopes, the districts' never returned to the docile state they used to be in. Reports came in from every district of acts of violence, riots, and refusal to give in to the Capitol's demands. More Peacekeepers were sent out to the districts' and put the rebels down once again. Things would be quiet for a while then the districts' would rebel again. And again and again the Capitol had to put it down. They never knew which districts would rebel and when. Snow was not worried. He knew after a while, the districts would just give up. They were wasting too many lives and resources to try to defeat what could never be defeated.

Snow was wrong though. The districts' still had the spirit of the rebellion with them. They just needed another spark to set them on fire.

* * *

Harley Johansen awakens with a knife clutched in her fist. She silently takes a quick look around her bedroom for intruders. Determining she is safe, she releases the knife and sits up in her bed. Then she rolls onto the floor and starts doing push-ups. She feels her knife hand sting slightly when she presses it to the carpet. Her grip on the knife must have tightened while she slept and her nails probably scratched her skin.

After she has done 100 push-ups, she examines her knife hand. As she had suspected, her nails had broken through the skin on her palm and beads of blood had formed. Dried blood now.

"Could have been worse." Harley mutters to herself, starting on her 100 sit-ups. _Don't worry about it Harley, it's just a scratch. Get the 300 over with and then you can bandage it._

'The 300' has been Harley's work-out routine for about seven years. 100 push-ups, 100 sit-ups, 50 minutes of jogging, and 50 chin-ups, equal the 300. As a 17-year-old Career she is expected to do all 300 and more every day without complaint. On a good day Harley can raise the number to almost 500. On a bad day she can barely manage the 300. Today happens to be Reaping Day so Harley expects the total to be somewhere in the middle.

When she finishes her sit ups, the first rays of light start to show through Harley's window. Dawn, her favorite time of the day. She dresses in a comfortable pair of sweatpants and throws on a sweatshirt before leaving her room. She can hear her parents' snores as she walks down the hallway. The jewelry shop is closed for the day so her parents are able to sleep in.

As soon as she is out of the house, she starts her 50-minute run. The sun is still barely above the horizon as she jogs through District 1. On a normal day she would be passing by people opening up their shops or reporting for the eight hours of District Repair. After 5 years, though, District One does not need much more repair. Harley takes even breaths, trying to enjoy her moment of solitude. Even though the district isn't very crowded in the mornings, she has never liked being distracted from her run by citizens trying to greet her. She's not exactly a "people person". Which is the reason why she chooses to wake up so early. It also gets her a good spot at the Training Center before the younger trainees show up.

The Training Center doesn't open at dawn so usually Harley has to wait for someone to let her in or she asks for the key the day before. She jogs around the building a few times to complete the 50-minute run before she puts the key in the lock and pushes the door open. The Training Center is like a second home to Harley, she has been going there to train since she was 10-years-old. Every child is able to train at a young age and encouraged to continue training into their teen years. If you have stuck with training when you are eighteen then you are encouraged to volunteer for the Hunger Games. It is probably much more popular to volunteer in District 2, but District 1 has never had a Hunger Games go without someone volunteering. And at 17, Harley knows that someone will be her.

Harley turns the lights on in the main gym of the Training Center and heads directly toward the high bar. Harley has never excelled at chin-ups and usually can only manage to do eight before having to rest. She jumps up and grabs onto the bar. Grimacing, she lifts herself up until her chin is just touching the bar then relaxes. She continues to slowly make her way to 50 chin-ups, resting after every eighth.

Harley is so focused on her task that she does not hear the gym door open. She is not aware of the eyes on her as she relaxes her arms after the first 30.

"I would think you would be able to do those quicker after all these years." Harley is startled by the voice from behind her. She loses her grip on the bar and falls to the ground, just able to make a shaky landing.

"And your reflexes could get better."

"I didn't think you'd be here this early." Harley says, standing and turning to her trainer.

"Well, this is a very special day for you. I figured I should come down here and give you a few pointers before you disgrace your family." He says. "What? No hug for your grandpa?"

Harley eyes the older man for a few seconds before walking over and giving him a quick hug. "I am sorry Grandfather, how rude of me." She says her voice heavy with sarcasm.

"Watch that tone missy." Grandfather warns. He takes ahold of her injured hand and examines it. "Had a little accident with your grip on the bar did we?" He asks looking down at her. His icy blue eyes are so piercing Harley has to look away. She nods, careful not to look at his face. Those blue eyes are not easy to lie to. Same as her father's and the same as her own.

Grandfather silently stares at her then touches her cheek. "You should do something with those bags under your eyes. You wouldn't want to look bad for the cameras."

Harley nods; a bit relieved he hadn't pursued the subject. "Yes Grandfather."

"We should get this wrapped up and then we will talk about the Reaping today. Understood?"

"Yes Grandfather."

Her grandfather grabs the First Aid kit and starts to bandage her hand. "I still say you should wait until you're 18." He blurts out. Harley rolls her eyes, she knew this was coming. Grandfather has always said what is on his mind.

"This is my choice." She says quietly.

"It's a bad choice if you ask me."

"I didn't ask you."

"I'm telling you anyway."

"Grandfather-"

"Don't use that tone with me Harley. This is serious business you're getting into!" Without meaning to, his grip on her hand tightens.

"Grandfather," Harley draws her hand back. "We have been over this a million times. I know you and Mother disagree, but Father thinks I am old enough to make a decision for myself. I am ready for this."

"Let some 18 year-old Career get the glory. Wait another year, you'll be better prepared then."

"I am plenty prepared now. If I wait another year I won't be as perfectly trained and I will have to go up against everyone in my class. No one else wants to volunteer this year and you know that. This is my only chance."

"You're still a child Harley-"

"You know I'm not a child." Harley says, cutting him off. "I haven't been a child for a while and all three of you need to accept that."

"Your death will disgrace our family-"

"If I do die I will die with honor. I am not a weakling. I am a Career. I am the Career you trained." Harley holds her hand up stopping Grandfather before he starts to speak. She looks at him, her blue eyes showing her determination. "But Grandfather, I will not die so easily. I will do my best win. You can count on that."

Harley stands up. "Now are we going to train or are you going to pout like a child?"

Grandfather stares at her then jerks his thumb over his shoulder. "Speed bag, you need to get faster." Harley nods.

The training session is relatively normal. Harley and her granfather try to cover all the bases before the other trainees start to show up. After the speed bag, there is archey and sword training (two of Harley strengths), then knife throwing and weight lifting (one of her weaknesses-though she has enough strength to hold a sword she has never been able to lift well). There is an excercise where her Granfather put a blindfold over Harley's eyes and tells her to defend herself from his attacks. Harley has never liked this excercise. Her eyes are more well developed then her other senses, and the blindfold doesn't seem to help in the slightest. So it's no surprise when Granfather tackles her to the ground.

"All right I get it!" She says, ripping the blindfold off and standing. "I'm not good at hearing attacks. But I'm won't be able to develop that sense in an hour."

"It's important Harley." Grandfather says. "What if you are attacked in the middle of the night? You can't rely on your sight when it's too dark to see anything."

"But I'll be the one attacking!"

"What if it's someone in your alliance?"

"I'll kill them before they get the chance."

Grandfather shakes his head. "You're not read-"

"Yes I am! And I'll prove it to you."

Not wanting to argue anymore, Harley walks away from her Grandfather, toward the gym doors.

"Harley I swear, someday your arrogance will get you killed." She hears him mutter.

"But not today, Grandfather." Harley slams the gym doors closed and starts walking back to her house. She keeps her pace quick, trying to block that last conversation from her mind. _Concentrate Harley concentrate, you can't look like you're upset when you go on the stage. Remember you are the next Victor of District One. Just keep thinking that and everything will fall in its place. You will win_.

When she reaches her house, Harley keeps moving, thinking she should cool down before she sees her parents. She takes a slow walk around the district. More people begin to filter out of their homes and go about their daily business. Shops open, cooking fires are lit, neighbors greet each other, children run through the streets, women talk about the new emeralds in the jewelry shops, and the Peacekeepers start to ready the District Square for the Reaping.

Harley can smell eggs and bacon cooking when she opens the front door to her house. Her mother must be awake. She walks into the kitchen where her mother hands her a plate.

"Eat up sweetie. Today's a big day." Her mother gives her a smile and a wink.

"Thank you Mother." Harley says quietly, as her mother bustles around the kitchen. Harley has never understood her mother. They look alike (except for Harley's eyes which are shaped and colored like her father's). The both have long black hair, round noses and long torsos, but that's about where the similarities stop. Harley has never understood how she could always been so cheerful and chirpy even in a stressful situation like this. It may be that Mother has not completely accepted that Harley will be volunteering for the Hunger Games.

"So honey, how did you sleep?"

"Fine." Harley says quietly, looking down at her plate. Mother examines Harley's face. "Was it a nightmare Harley?" She finally asks.

Harley nods but says nothing. She can tell her mother wants to question her more but chooses not to.

"Eat up dear." Mother says. "Don't let the eggs get cold."

"Where's Father?" Harley asks between bites. There is a flash of something-sadness? anger? - across her mother's face, but she looks at Harley and smiles. "Oh he's just in the garage. You know how he loves messing with that old bicycle."

Harley nods. The bicycle her father loves so much was some sort of antique motorized vehicle for one. It does not work of course; the engine was so old no one knew how to fix it. Harley somewhat resents the stupid thing. Whenever Father was in one of his "moods" he would work on that piece of crap. Never really gave Harley a chance for some daddy-daughter time, even if she wanted it. Father had even named her after the stupid antique mother-loving bike that didn't even work. Shows where his priorities were.

Speak of the devil, Harley's father walks into the kitchen, wiping his hands on a red rag, a grease stain on his cheek.

"Good morning Bronzer." Her mother says to him. He nods to her and looks at Harley's plate.

"Do we have anymore bacon?" He asks sullenly. Clearly he was still feeling the effects of the alcohol he had drunk the night before.

"I'm sorry dear; Harley got the last few pieces. I'll try to buy some tomorrow." Mother's voice falters a bit and she glances at Harley, knowing her daughter might not be sitting at that kitchen table the next day.

"Damn useless woman." Father mutters as he sits down. Mother at least has the decency to pretend not to hear what he said, handing him a glass of water.

Harley looks down at her plate and sees three strips of bacon still left. She pushes the plate in front of Father and stands. "I'm done anyway." She says. "I think I'll go get ready." Harley, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible, walks out of the room without waiting for a reply.

"Harley I laid something out for you on your bed. Give it a try. You have to make an impression today!" Mother shouts to her before Harley closes the door to her room.

After showering and drying her hair, Harley looks on her bed and almost starts laughing when she sees the dress her mother intends her to wear. A slinky black dress that looks more like it would serve better as a scarf or skirt lies on her bed. Harley starts for her closet, looking for something decent to wear…then shakes her head and turns back to the dress. Mother would be very disappointed if she didn't wear it and she had already been upset by the Father had treated her.

Sighing, Harley slips the dress on over her underwear. "Suck it up Johansen, you have to make an impression." She says to herself, fumbling with the zipper in the back. Even with the zipper all the way up, Harley feels very _exposed_ in this dress. It has no sleeves, only being held up by shoulder straps. What little of a chest Harley has is pushed up and out. The dress only goes halfway down her thighs, leaving her legs bare. She assumes this dress is supposed to create a very sexy image, but Harley just feels ridiculous in the flimsy thing. She tends to like feeling supported and protected in her clothes. The dress does neither of the two. Harley would love nothing more than to take the stupid thing off but she knows it will probably help her chances of getting picked as a volunteer.

Going back to the kitchen, Harley sees Mother has put on a white sundress and put her hair in a bun. Even her Father has cleaned up his appearance, wearing a blue blazer.

"Oh Harley, you look beautiful." Mother says, kissing her cheek. _Beautiful? Well that's one word for it._

"It's time." Father says, glancing at the clock. He looks at Harley. "Harley. You have thought this through? You are completely sure?"

"Yes Father." She says feeling annoyed at his question. Didn't they understand? She has to do this.

Her father nods. "You don't want to be late then. Let's go." Father opens the door and lets Harley and her mother out before closing and locking it up. Harley leads the way to the District Square, fighting the urge to look back at her house, trying not to think that there is a chance she will never see it again.

* * *

"All right, it's time to get up!" Skyler groans and buries her head in the pillow, trying to ignore Mrs. Grislow's attempts to wake her and the other kids up. _Stupid old cow_.

"Get up! Get up Manning!" Someone pulls the blanket off of Skyler and shoves her off the cot. She gives a surprised yelp and looks at the woman who just pushed her off. Grislow scowls at her. "It's morning. Better be down in the dining room in three minutes or there will be no breakfast for you."

"Yeah, it'd be a real shame to have your delicious gruel go to waste." Skyler whispers. Grislow hears her and hits her head with a spoon.

"Watch your mouth." Mrs. Grislow warns Skyler before walking in between the cots of the other kids, swearing at them to get up.

_I hate this place_, Skyler thinks, standing up and walking over toward the girl's bathroom. She grabs a towel and starts washing her face with the cold water. Out of the corner of her eye she sees some of the girls lining up for the showers. Skyler runs a hand through her short brown hair.

"This can last for the rest of the day." She says, thinking she'll shower after the Reapings and spare the waiting. Although the water will probably be freezing by then.

Skyler walks over to the closets, picking out a green t-shirt and jeans to wear. She strips out of her pajamas and dresses, brushing off the fact that there are at least four other girls in the room. They all have the same body parts as her, who really cares what they see?

After getting dressed, Skyler makes her way down to the dining room, where kids are lining up for their morning bowl of oatmeal. As she gets in line, she feels someone tug at the collar of her shirt.

"Looking our best and brightest today aren't we Skyler?" Says someone behind her.

"Shut up, Patrick I'm still waking up." She says, shooting the boy with red hair behind her an annoyed glance. Patrick merely smiles at her and ruffles her hair. "You haven't showered yet? That's okay, guys like the dirty girls."

Skyler elbows him in the stomach. "Stop being an ass. Where's Seaweed?" She asks, looking around the dining room. Patrick shrugs, "He'll be here, he's probably just trying to flirt with Erin, convince her that he has the 'magic touch.'" Patrick makes quotation fingers when he says 'magic touch.'

Skyler shakes her head. "That line never works. How many times has he used it?"

"I'd say about twenty." Patrick looks over his shoulder and waves, trying to get someone's attention. "Here he comes now."

Sure enough a tall, tan-skinned boy who looks about the same age as Patrick joins the two of them; he has a big grin on his face. "You freaks will not believe what just happened."

"She didn't say yes did she?" Skyler asks in disbelief.

"Better she said to meet her down by the docks after the Reaping." Seaweed laughs. "Am I good or am I good?"

"You lucky son of a…." Patrick high-fives Seaweed and Skyler rolls her eyes. "She might have just invited you down there to push you into the water."

"Skyler, ye of little faith. Believe it or not, most girls find me attractive."

Skyler snorts. "Uh huh yeah sure."

"You're telling me you aren't at all attracted to this?" Seaweed says motioning to his body.

"Nope, not in the slightest."

"Actually," Patrick interrupts their playful argument. "Skyler can only be classified as a girl physically. So she wouldn't find any guy attract-" Patrick does not finish his sentence however as he sees Skyler glaring at him and realizes it is better for his safety to shut up. The three of them each grab a bowl of oatmeal with a spoon and sit down at the long table.

Typically, _Grislow Community Home_ is meant to house up to thirty wayward orphans. Right now, it only has 15, seven girls and eight boys. These are the children who weren't picked out at the orphanages when they were babies and now that they are much older, no family wants them. So they go on to the Community Homes, where they stay until they are 18 and can legally support themselves. Others, like Skyler, lost both or one their parents when they were in their pre-teens, had no other family in District 4 and were too old for the orphanages. Agatha Grislow used to run the home along with her husband. Ever since his passing, she has become harsher with her rules and restrictions and crueler with her punishments. Skyler had not been there when Mr. Grislow was alive, however, so she only knew the cranky old bat. Mrs. Grislow does not like Skyler in the slightest. Skyler is a natural born rebel, whose stubbornness and impulsiveness has only increased as she matured. She cannot help herself from talking back whenever Grislow is scolding her. She doesn't need to be scolded. She's 15 for Panem's sake! In three years-three long years- she would finally be able to leave the Home. Until then she has to stay in Grislow's manor.

Skyler has to admit though; Grislow's Home isn't that bad. The kids are given meals three times a day, a roof over their heads, and a cot to sleep on. It's a lot more than kids in poorer districts are given. Even so, she hates it there. Skyler is usually in some sort of trouble most of the time. If it's not talking back, it is sneaking out after hours, being disruptive during class time, and even refusing help with chores. Grislow responds by yelling at her, beating her (occasionally) and sometimes assigning her the most repulsive of tasks (like cleaning every toilet in the Home). This only sparks Skyler's rebellious side and she retaliates, which she is punished for again. It is a never ending cycle of disobedience and punishment.

"So, what do you guys want to do before the Reapings?" Patrick asks, bringing Skyler's wandering mind back to the table.

Seaweed shrugs. "What is there to do?"

"We could walk down to the District Square and watch them get ready." Skyler says. "We could go for a swim at the shore. We could bother the Peacekeepers"

"Boring, fun, and even more fun." Seaweed says, stirring around his oatmeal with a spoon. "But I think we should just go swimming.

"But isn't the shore closed off today? Something about making sure no one tries to skip out on the Reaping."

Skyler grins. "Who's gonna care if three kids go swimming? We'll be back in time for the Reaping anyway." Her grey eyes light up at the thought of splashing around in the ocean.

"We better be or _Greaselow_ will probably skin us alive." Seaweed says, glancing at Mrs. Grislow who is eyeing the three of them. The boys hate Grislow probably as much as Skyler did. _Greaselow _was their nickname for her.

Skyler snorts. "That old bat wouldn't care if the Peacekeepers arrested us and had us whipped."

"Which might also happen if they catch us at the shore." Patrick helpfully points out.

"C'mon Pat, where's your sense of adventure?" Skyler asks.

Patrick shakes his head. "All right, all right, you win we can go swimming." He says, giving in.

"Now about the attire for our outing today…." Seaweed says grinning at Skyler.

"No, no way. We are not skinny-dipping. Not after last time."

"Yeah that crab got your rear good didn't he Skye?"

Skyler's face turns red as the boys laugh. "I hate you both." She says, looking down at her oatmeal.

Patrick ruffles her hair again. "Fine, no skinny dipping either. I say we sneak out now, before Greaselow tries to make us do the laundry or something."

An hour later, the three of them are down at the shore, taking turns throwing each other into the ocean's waves. Since none of them own bathing suits, they have to swim in their underwear.

"One, two, three!" Seaweed and Patrick toss Skyler into an incoming wave. She lands in the water with a small splash then comes up, laughing.

"You call that a throw? I barely even reached two feet!"

"Which is how tall you are!" Seaweed shoots back.

"Hey, I am a perfect height for a girl my age!" Skyler is pretty short, but she isn't going to give Seaweed the satisfaction of admitting to it.

"Let's not get into this again guys," Patrick says, "Let's just say Seaweed is freakishly tall and Skyler is a midget." For that comment he gets splashed from both directions.

Skyler laughs as Patrick tackles Seaweed into the waves. She lets the boys fight as she lies back so she can float on top of the water. The sun is shining, the birds are singing (or rather seagulls are squawking),and she's with her best friends. _This is bliss_, she thinks, closing her eyes and drifting off into slumber.

"Skyler." The urgency in Patrick's voice wakes her. Skyler opens her eyes and stands up in the water. Patrick points toward the shore where two Peacekeepers are waiting for them. _Damn, and we were having such a good time_.

"What do they want?" She asks Patrick.

"I don't know, but we should probably get out before they get mad." Skyler nods and follows Patrick and Seaweed as they make their way out of the water. Skyler has a bad feeling that her comment earlier about Peacekeepers whipping her and her friends might have jinxed them.

"What can we do for you?" Seaweed asks the Peacekeepers in a friendly tone. The Peacekeepers are not in a very friendly mood though.

"Get your clothes on before we arrest you." One of the Peacekeepers says.

"We were just swimming. What's so illegal about swimming?" Seaweed asks them.

"You entered a closed off area of the beach. This one," He points at Skyler. "Has already been warned about fishing and carrying a weapon here."

_Shit, busted,_ Skyler thinks, _the only day I didn't borrow a spear from the Training Center too_.

"Well, as you can see sir, we weren't fishing or carrying weapons. Just having some harmless fun." Patrick says shooting Skyler a be-quiet-and-we'll-handle-this look.

"Nevertheless we are under strict orders to arrest anyone who trespasses."

"We advise you to put your clothes on and get going to the Reaping."

"And what are you gonna do if we don't? Cuff us and take us there yourselves?" Skyler says without thinking. She claps her hands over her mouth, but it is too late.

The Peacekeepers share a glance. "That's a good idea. Sergeant." One of them takes out a pair of handcuffs.

"Okay, okay, officers, we'll go." Patrick says quickly putting his clothes on. Skyler and Seaweed do the same, looking very nervous. "Okay? Now we'll just be on our way…." The Peacekeepers stop Patrick before he can walk away.

"It'll be easier for us to just take you there ourselves." The Peacekeeper nods to his partner and they put cuffs around their wrists and ankles.

"Well isn't this…comfortable." Skyler says, earning a glare from the boys.

"This isn't for your comfort. It's so you don't perform any more criminal activities."

"Criminal? How are we crimin-oof!" Patrick elbows Skyler in the stomach to shut her up.

"Look we live at the Grislow Community Home. You can just escort us there and Mrs. Grislow can take care-"

"And who's to say you won't run off when we let you go?" The Peacekeeper asks. "No, we are taking you to the Reaping and afterward we'll see about your punishments." He grins on the word 'punishments'.

Skyler shudders. _Just our luck to get the one who enjoys his job_.

"Move it, you." The Peacekeeper tries to grab Skyler's hair and pull it. Luckily, there isn't much hair for him to grab. Skyler easily jerks out of his grip. "Okay! I'm moving!" _Sheesh_.

The group looks pretty odd, walking down the streets of District 4. Two Peacekeepers with three, hand-cuffed teenagers in tow, looking humiliated. Most people look on with confusion. Some look at the teenagers with pity. Some only shrug and go back to their business.

Their ankle chains are linked together so there is a lot of stumbling, tripping and running into each other and other people between Skyler and the boys. After a while, Skyler starts to get over the humiliation. It isn't that bad. They were just swimming; they certainly can't whip them for that. At least not in front of the cameras. And Grislow might get to them first. But she might do worse than whip them. Which was better, the Peacekeepers or Mrs. Grislow?

"Skyler!" Patrick whispers sharply and shoves her. Skyler had stopped walking in the middle of the street while she had been thinking. She stumbles and starts up walking again.

"Sorry." She whispers to Patrick. "I just got bored."

He sighs. "You are probably the only person who would get bored while walking in chains in public view."

"Well, this walking is slow and boring. Let's do something fun!"

Patrick gives her a look. She shrugs. "Hey, we're already in trouble. What else can possibly happen?"

"I'm with Skyler." Seaweed says.

Patrick sighs again. "I swear you two are going to be the death of me."

Seaweed, risking a pile-up, looks over his shoulder and grins. "Shall we give these gentlemen a bit of a tune?"

Skyler grins and Patrick stifles a groan. "You read my mind Seaweed." Seaweed winks and turns back to the Peacekeepers.

"So guys," He says to them. "Do you have any requests?" The Peacekeepers do not respond. "No? Too bad. Patrick?"

"Leave me out of this."

"Awww, pwetty pwetty pwease Pwatwick." Skyler says, risking a glance over her shoulder to give him the puppy-eyes.

"…Fine. How about _Heave Away, Bully Boys_?"

"Excellent choice!" Seaweed says. "I'll start." Before Seaweed even opens his mouth, the Peacekeepers jerk the chains to stop them.

"We're here. Now behave and be quiet!" The Peacekeeper snaps and leads them to the Sign-In table. Skyler and Seaweed snicker and even Patrick can't help but chuckle. The mayor has already started his speech, so they are considerably late after they sign in. They stand near the back, still in the chains, whispering to each other. None of them seem all that concerned when a young man in a dark green dress shirt, and what looks like a patchwork skirt walks up to the microphone.

"Happy Hunger Games everyone!" He says in a strangely high voice. He must have gotten cheek implants since his cheeks are perfectly round and red.

Skyler takes one look at him and has to bury her face in her hands to prevent her from laughing. "Is-is he wearing a-a SKIRT?" She snorts.

"Actually, I uh think it's called a kilt." Patrick says. "He's the new guy. I think his name is Germaine Servilli."

"He got District 4." Seaweed says, sounding impressed. "He must know some people in high places in the Capitol."

"And who should we start with this year?" Germaine says, looking out into the audience as if he's expecting a suggestion from them. "I know, let's start with the ladies!" Skyler snorts again as he walks over to the girl's bowl and picks out a name. However, the piece of paper slips out of his hands and falls to the stage.

"Whoopsie-daisy." Germaine makes the mistake of bending all the way over to retrieve the slip, which gives the audience an image they did not want to see. Clearly Germaine had forgotten to wear underwear. Many in the audience gasp and parents cover the eyes of young children. There is giggling from the girls and the boys are all very red-faced.

"This guy is great." Skyler says, giggling along with the girls.

"All righty! And our first tribute is…." Germaine unfolds the piece of paper and reads the name loud and clear.

"Skyler Manning!" Skyler stops laughing and pales. She turns to look at Patrick. "He didn't…." One look from Patrick's terrified face tells her the truth.

"Skyler Manning come on up!" Germaine calls. One of the Peacekeepers bends down and unchains her ankles so she can walk. He does not unchain her wrists though.

"Skyler Manning!" Skyler's eyes start to water and her knees bend. Seeing she may pass out, Seaweed pushes her slightly to get her started walking. She looks back at them one more time before starting down the middle aisle.

_No, no, no, no this can't be happening! It can't be happening! And oh to think this morning I was so happy. I was with my friends, I was in the ocean. I'm dead! I'm dead!_ Skyler breath comes in hitches as she starts up the stairs. _No, don't cry, don't cry, they can't see you cry. _

Skyler takes a deep breath to collect herself and she walks onto the stage. Germaine beckons her to stand next to him. She walks over to them and turns toward the audience, not looking at them but at the ocean that sparkles in the sun.

"Oh, what…pretty bracelets you have there Skyler." Skyler looks down at her bracelets-_handcuffs_-in wonder.

"Oh…yeah…they're new. I think I'm going to start a new fashion statement." She lifts her cuffs up to the audience and manages a grin. Only Germaine chuckles, as the rest of District 4 stare at her with pity and sympathy in their eyes.

Skyler does not hear the next name called but soon a very brutal looking boy is on stage next to her. Most children in District 4 do train but few actually try to make themselves Careers, and it looks like this year her district partner will be one of them.

When Germaine tells them to shake hands, her hand is almost crushed by his grasp.

_Bad luck for us Mannings'_, she thinks miserably, _first my mother, then my grandmother, then my father…_

_And now me._

* * *

Max takes a deep breath before lifting the bow up and pointing the arrow at the target. His hand slightly touches his mouth and he holds the position for a few more second before releasing the arrow. The arrow flies through the air and…hits the wall right next to the target.

Max's cheeks burn as he hears laughter. "Nice one Maxie. That's the closest you've gotten today."

"Shut up Kirk." Max says, putting the bow back on the rack. "So archery's not my specialty. I still rock at track and field." Kirk rolls his eyes.

"Yeah, fat lot of good that'll do you once you're in the arena and have to go up against some 300 pound guy from Two." Kirk shakes his head and leans against the wall crossing his arms. "Eighteen years of training and you still haven't learned a thing."

"What can I say? I was never a learner. I'm more of a do-er." Max goes over to the punching bag. "Ahem!"

Kirk sighs and walks over to him. "I can't believe I got up before noon for this." He says holding the back of the bag steady so it wouldn't swing.

Max punches the bag with all his strength and is satisfied to hear a painful grunt come out of his older brother. He smiles a little and continues to punch them bag, using a bit less force though. Usually Max wouldn't actually go to the Training Center on a Sunday. He would normally be, like Kirk, sleeping in until noon. But today is the Reaping. He has to look at least a little bit in shape. Especially if he might volunteer.

"All right, that's enough, give my gut a rest." Kirk whines, letting the bag swing into Max. Max is too late to dodge it and ends up getting knocked over onto his back. "Whoops, sorry."

Max sits up giving his brother a look. "No you're not."

Kirk grins and grabs his hand. "Yeah, I'm not." He lifts Max to his feet.

"Jerk." Max mutters.

"Bitch." Kirk says.

"Ass."

"Douche."

"Retard."

"Homo."

Max shakes his head but can't help but grin. "You know that's not true."

"Bro, you have never had a girlfriend. I've never seen you with any girl except Rhine. And also you're a virgin."

"Am not! I made it with Deedee in a closet!"

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah!...Except she went around telling everyone it didn't count…."

Kirk chuckles. "Aw Maxie…."

"Don't call me that." Max says.

"Whatever you say Max…ie." Kirk grins before Max tries to tackle him. He easily slides away so Max ends up tripping and landing face first on the floor.

"You are such a jerk!" Max says, sitting up and rubbing his nose.

"That's what older brothers are for Maxie." Kirk yawns. "What are we doing here anyway? You wake me up at nine so we can go down here and I can watch you fall on your face."

Max looks at Kirk for a moment then looks down at the floor. "Actually I'm…I'm thinking of volunteering."

The grin is immediately wiped off of Kirk's face. "What?"

"I think I might volunteer this year." Kirk doesn't say anything. Max scrambles up and uses his silence to go on. "I figure I'm 18, I've learned a lot. I may not be the best at archery, but I'm fast and I'm pretty strong. I'm not beefed up like you are but I don't have to be. I know I'm not the brightest tool in the shed but I got good street sense and I actually feel like…like…like I have a chance…."

Kirk looks at him, a mixture of anger and hurt on his face. "No Max. You're not volunteering."

"Why not? Someone has to. You even tried to when you were 18-"

"Exactly!" Kirk suddenly yells at him. "I tried but I wasn't picked. The Victor's title should be mine. You're not going to steal it from me."

Max stares at his older brother. "I know you're selfish Kirk but I never thought you could be this much of an ass." Max starts to yell at him. "You chickened out! You could have volunteered! But you didn't! You snuck away and spent the rest of the day boozing! One of us has to volunteer! Dad thought you would, but you didn't. You let him down when he needed you most and like every single _fucking _day of your life you decided to only do something for yourself." Kirk looks at him silently as Max goes on. "What you didn't think that would fall on me? Dad wants to have another Victor in the family, and since you couldn't man up, his _favorite_ couldn't, he had to rely on me!"

"Max we both know that Dad thinks I'm an arrogant, lazy ass who can't do anything but drink and sleep."

"Which is completely true! But you're still his favorite! Even after all this time, it's always been you!" Max blurts out before he realizes.

Kirk stares at Max then crosses his arms. "Fine if that's what you think of me, I'll just go then."

"Fine by me!" Kirk shakes his head and walks out the doors of the Training Center.

Max punches the bag angrily. "Selfish asshole." He mutters. He stays angry for a few more moments then sighs. His brother was what he was, Max shouldn't blame Kirk for everything. He had messed up but he didn't deserve that.

Max quickly walks out of the doors to the Training Center and tries to catch up with Kirk. "Kirk! Hey Kirk! Hey I'm sorry!"

Kirk waves him off and continues walking. Max sighs. _Great just great_, Max thinks, _you pick today of all days to pick a fight with one of the only people that supports you_.

"Kirk wait!" Max breaks into a run to catch up with his brother. Kirk may be stronger than him, but Max is much faster. Max runs until he is right next to Kirk, then he slows into a walking pace. Kirk doesn't acknowledge Max's existence.

"Are you gonna talk to me?" Kirk says nothing. "Can I at least walk next to you?" Nothing. "Well…I'm gonna anyway." They walk in silence.

Max doesn't try talking to his brother again until they reach Victor's Village. "Hey Kirk, I'm sor-yah!" Max trips over a bump and almost falls on his face.

Kirk chuckles a bit. Max gives him a look. "Jerk."

"Bitch." Well at least Kirk's talking to him. When they reach the mansion, Max walks up the front steps and opens the door before looking back at Kirk. "Coming?" He asks.

"In a minute." Kirk says, looking over his head. Max sighs and steps inside the house.

"Max." Max turns back. Kirk looks at his little brother with an expression he had never shown before-fear. "Just…good luck."

"Right."

"Okay."

"Okay." Max turns back and walks into the hallway.

_Well, that's about as close to an 'I'm sorry' as Kirk can get_. Trying to put it out of his mind, Max climbs the stairs to the second floor and goes to his room. He finds the clothes for the Reaping his mom had picked out for him lying on his bed. A dark blue dress shirt and black dress pants that used to belong to Kirk but now are handed down to Max.

After he pulls on the clothes Max walks over to the mirror and examines his image. While Kurt is short and stocky, Max is very tall and lean. He's been called a 'bean-pole' multiple times by jerks at his school. Even though they both have the same dark brown hair, Kirk keeps his cut close to his head while Max lets it grow out into a shaggy style. He sometimes has to push his bangs out of his eyes so he can see.

Max cocks his head as he stares at his reflection. He tries pushing his hair back above his hazel eyes, which never works. He shrugs. Well the rest of him looks fine. Max puts his hands on his hips and grins.

"Damn I look gooood." He says, trying out a few poses in front of the mirror. "Sexy. Fine. Yeah you know you want it ladies…."

"Yeah sure we do." Max jumps and lets out a very unmanly screech. He turns to see a blonde-haired girl laughing in the doorway.

"You are so ridiculous!" She says, howling with laughter. Max blushes. "How'd you get in here Rhine?"

Rhinestone grins. "Your brother let me in, I thought I'd come up and see if you were ready." Rhine glances at the mirror. "Do you need a moment alone with yourself?"

"Nah, no it's cool. It's cool." Rhine's seem him do more embarrassing stuff anyway.

"What's with the nice clothes?" She says walking in a circle around him. He and Rhine usually don't care about the Reapings so they never bother dressing up. In fact Rhine is only wearing jeans, a white t-shirt and a jean jacket like she always wears. Max has never seen her actually take off that jacket.

"Well, it's my last Reaping so I thought 'Why not go out with a bang?'" Max lies. He hates lying to his best friend but she would freak if she knew he was volunteering.

Rhine just shrugs. "Whatever. Ready to go?"

"Yeah, sure." Rhine leads the way as they walk back down the stairs and out the front door. "Where's your parents?" She asks as Max, locks the door.

"Don't know. Probably already at the Reaping. My dad had to be there early." Max pockets his keys and they head toward the District Square. "So Rhine?"

"So Max?"

"Are you thinking about volunteering?"

She shakes her head. "No, that's not for me. I'm not much of a fighter and I don't care money."

"But you don't just get money as a Victor. You get the glory of winning and honor for your district."

Rhine rolls her eyes. "Honor, glory, I don't care about any of that crap. I don't know, maybe I'll feel different in a couple years when it's my last Reaping." She eyes him. "You're not thinking of volunteering, right Max?"

"Pfft, no." Another lie. "Anyway," Max says now trying to change the subject, "Why did the muttation cross the road?"

Rhine looks at him, a bit confused. "Um, I don't know, why?"

"Who cares? It's a muttation. Run for your life!" Rhine chuckles. "You are so weird."

"I take such pride in that." Max says.

"Why am I friends with you?" Rhine asks herself.

"Cause I'm immature and you loooooooooooooove it." Max teases. Rhine shoves his shoulder. "You're annoying."

"And you looooooooove it."

"You're a goofball."

"And you loooooooooooooove-"

"Max I swear if you say that again I'll-"

"All right, all right!" Max says, holding up his hands and grinning at her. "You know you love it though."

"Fuck you."

"When?"

Rhinestone starts laughing again. "In your dreams Maxie!"

Max laughs too. "I'm just kidding Rhine."

"Yeah, yeah…." They reach the District Square where kids are lining up to sign in. Rhine bites her lip and looks away when they prick her finger. She has never had a stomach for blood.

"I'll see you after?" She asks, looking straight into Max's eyes.

"Yeah, of course." Max's eyes flicker downward to his feet. He hates telling so many lies. Even if it's something he's good at.

"Okay… well, Happy Hunger Games!" Rhine chuckles and waves at Max as she walks over to the 16-year-old's section. Max watches her retreating figure. The he sighs and walks over to stand with the other 18-year-old's. A few of the boys in the section recognize Max and greet him. However Max is too deep in his thoughts (which is very rare for him) to have a conversation.

_Okay, on the pro side of volunteering_, Max says to himself weighing his options_, you get to show off your fighting moves…not that you have many but you can always fake it. Dad'll be proud of you, Kirk will be bothered if you win and if you do win you'll be rich and famous. And girls just can't get enough of famous, handsome Victors._

_However on the con side, volunteering would upset Kirk and Rhine, who are probably the closest people to you. And you could die. Which is pretty bad_.

Max ran his hand through his hair. What was he supposed to do? He wasn't used to having so much pressure on him. He spots the mayor and the other officials of District 1 walking onto the stage. Well, if he made a decision he'd have to make it now and fast.

The mayor begins the very long, boring speech of Panem's history. All the old stuff about the Dark Days, how The Capitol reclaimed Panem after the districts revolted, how District 13 was destroyed and why the Hunger Games were established. Then he started with the new history how the districts revolted again this time led by the victor Katniss Everdeen. Of course, the Capitol won again and reclaimed all the districts.

Max never really listened to the speech since he had heard it for five years and everyone knew the story. But he still has not made his decision as District One's escort, Petunia Florence, walks up to the microphone.

"Happy Hunger Games, District One!" She begins, smiling brightly at the crowd. As always Petunia is wearing her white blouse and lace leggings with a bright pink raincoat over her outfit. She wears different colored contact lenses so that one eye looked pink and the other was an egg white color. Max wonders if she even knew what color her eyes really were as she continued her speech.

"It's now that time of the year! We will start with the girls!" Petunia turns to the bowl holding the girls of District One's names and selects a paper. She unfolds the paper and reads out the name. "Silver Knight!"

"I volunteer!" Only one girl shouts out from the 17-year-old's section. Max faintly recognizes her voice but can't seem to remember who it belongs to.

"Oh, I see here we have a very eager volunteer." Petunia says as the crowd parts for the girl to go onstage. "Come on up dear, come along." The 'very eager' volunteer, walks onto the stage, perfectly poised, an arrogant half-smile on her face.

_Holy shit_, it's like Max has been hit with a thunder bolt. _She is hot!_ The girl has straight black hair that goes past her shoulders and piercing blue eyes. Of course the boys, including Max, are not staring at her eyes but the low cut- _very_ low cut dress she is wearing.

"And what is your name, sweetie?" Petunia asks. The girl looks straight into the audience, still grinning that cocky half-smile.

"Harley Johansen." Her smile widens and Max can tell she is looking directly at the cameras.

_Oh yeah, the girl from history!_ Max realizes, still staring at Harley. He always thought she was a looker, but _man oh man how am I gonna get up onstage next to _that?

"And now for the boys." Petunia reaches into the glass bowl and pulls out a name. "Wonder Prascus!"

"I volunteer!" This time there are about six boys who shout the sentence out at the same time. Including Max. _Hey she might not pick me anyway, I should just give it a try_. Petunia puts her hand to her chin in a thinking posture. Then she points directly at Max.

_Crap_.

_Sorry, I wasn't too sure there for a second. Didn't mean to volunteer. Carry on. Let what's-his-name have it. I'll just be on my way._

Max feels the urge to deny he tried to volunteer and just let someone else have it. But instead he pushes forward through the crowd of boys and up to the stage. The girl-Harley- narrows her eyes at him and he grins at her.

"And what is your name handsome?" Petunia says, winking at Max. Max looks directly at Harley as he says his full name. "Drake. Maxwell Archibald Cadimus Drake."

Except for a few snickers, the crowd is completely silent. _Okay, that sounded much better in my head_.

"Let's give a hand to your new tributes District One!" Max smiles as the audience applauds for him and Harley._ I could get used to this…._

* * *

"Danny stop it! Stop! You're getting water everywhere and I've already had a bath!" Callie laughs as Daniel splashes her with the bath water. "Danny hold still so your big sister Callie can give you a bath. Hold still."

"No." Daniel laughs along with Callie, opening his mouth in a toothless smile. Being almost a year old, Daniel can only say a few words and phrases. _No_ is one of his favorites along with _won't_ and _can't_.

"We don't have much water Danny, now be a good boy and _hold still_." Callie tries using a stern voice to make her baby brother behave, but what's the use? Danny is just plain naughty and Callie couldn't be stern with him if she wanted to.

"No." The baby laughs again, waving his arms around. Callie shakes her head, smiling at him. "You're such a little rascal you are." She says finally getting ahold of him. "Mommy and Daddy will have their hands full with you when they get off work."

"Mama." Danny points his little finger at her nose.

"Oh no Danny. I'm not Mama. Mama's working like always. Just like she and Daddy always are." Callie lets out a sigh. Things have gotten so bad since having Daniel. With the extra and very fussy mouth to feed, both of her parents had to make themselves available for more time at the power plant, making Callie Daniel's chief guardian and babysitter. They even had to work Reaping Day, even though other districts had the day off. But if District 5 wasn't always working the other districts and the Capitol would not have power.

Callie is lost in her thoughts and doesn't notice a soap bubble rise up from the sink and pop in front of Danny's eye. The child's eyes start to water up and he makes a mewling sound.

"Oh no, Danny it's all okay. Everything's okay." Callie says, using her most soothing tone. She kisses Daniel on the forehead. "Guess bath time is over then." She says, lifting him out of the sink and lying him down carefully on a towel on the floor. Daniel coos at Callie and grabs her finger. He sticks her finger in his mouth and sucks on it.

"You want your binkie don't you? There, there, big sister will get it for you." Callie looks around the room searching for Daniel's binky. _Ah ha there it is, right on the edge of the sink where I left it. _Callie gently removes her finger from Daniel's mouth and grabs the binky. "Here we are." She put the binkie in Danny's mouth and he immediately sucks on it.

Callie smiles at him and pats him with the towel, drying him off. Danny giggles as she does so.

"Oh does that tickle? Are you ticklish?" Callie grins and starts tickling Danny's stomach. Danny laughs more and kicks his feet up. Callie laughs and takes both of his feet in her hands. "Careful or you'll take my eye out." She releases his feet then stands. "You stay there and behave now." She says to Danny, as she opens the door to go outside.

_It's such a beautiful day_, Callie thinks, taking in her surroundings. The sun is shining brightly, the trees are swaying in the slight breeze and Callie can hear a mockingjay start to sing in the distance. Callie breathes in the fresh air before going over to the clothesline. She starts taking the laundry down from the line and putting it in a basket next to her. Her family does not have the money for fancy clothes but they make do with what they have. That goes for luxuries such as hot water, allowance, more modern furniture, and things like that. Callie does not mind much. She has grown to love the simple life she leads.

Out of the corner of her eye, she spots one of her neighbor's walking out of his house and into the street. "Good morning Mr. Cantrell!" She calls to him, waving her hand.

He looks about, wondering where the voice came from then spots Callie. He immediately starts to smile. "Ah, hello Callie! I believe it is 'good afternoon' now though."

"Oh my mistake. Time sure does fly by." He chuckles. "Are you parent's home?"

Callie shakes her head. "No, they had the early shift. I'll be meeting them at the Reaping."

"Ah yes the Reaping, I'm headed down there now. I have to see what the competition looks like this year." Mr. Cantrell is a very nice man. However he has never been married and has never had any children. He likes to gamble a lot and his main game is the odds for the Reapings.

Callie nods and brushes her blonde hair out of her eyes. She very much disagrees with the way Mr. Cantrell acts about the Reapings but she's in no place to reprimand him. Everyone is entitled to their opinion.

"Don't worry Callie, the odds are quite in your favor. You didn't have to take the tesserae until this year correct?" Mr. Cantrell has a sly look on his face that is usually present when he is gambling.

"Yes, after Daniel was born things got a bit…difficult." Callie lowers her eyes. Mr. Cantrell waves his hand. "Forget about it Callie. There are a lot of more kids who have their names in more times than you have."

"Yes I know."

"I'd better be off. I'll see you at the Reaping."

"Have a nice day!" Callie's waves to him as Mr. Cantrell turns back and walks down the road. Callie turns her attention back to the laundry trying to shake the thought of her name being picked. Mr. Cantrell was right. She only had her name in about eight times which was much less the most of the children her age. Her parents had never wanted her to take the tesserae and she had only been forced to do so until they had Danny. Despite her parents working more hours, they still had the need for food. Callie had no choice. But it was only one time. One time couldn't hurt her chances.

_Put it out of your mind _Callie, she tells herself, _you have nothing to worry about._ She carefully folds one of her father's nicer shirts, making sure it will not wrinkle. When she is done, she picks the basket up and takes it into the house.

Danny has closed his eyes by now and is taking a nap, the binkie still in his mouth, his little hands curled up. Callie places the laundry basket on the table then bends down and lifts Danny up. She cradles him for a bit, watching him peacefully slumber. She then places him on a table and takes one of his nappies out from the basket.

Danny wakes up as she is putting his diaper on but he does not cry. He merely stares at her, sucking away on his binkie.

"There we go." She lifts him up. "That feels better right?" She gives him a kiss on the cheek. "I suppose we should get dressed for the Reaping now." She says to herself.

"Weaping?" Danny asks. Callie laughs and nuzzles him. "Don't you worry little one, it'll be years before you're eligible." Callie's voice falters near the end of that. She stares at Danny, a tear forming in the corner of her eye. Someday her little brother would be eligible for the Reapings. She might not have to worry now, but when Danny is 12 she knows she will be among the families who group together in the square, hoping their child will not be picked. The same fate awaits her own children. And Callie wants children so very much. She can only hope that they will have the same luck she has had so far.

Shaking her head of those thoughts, Callie dresses Danny in blue foot-pajamas. They have no money for nice baby clothes so the pajamas will have to do. Just like the bath, Danny fidgets around and kicks. She laughs and tells him not to be naughty which she knows will never happen.

Putting Danny back onto the towel, she walks into the next room, which she shares as a bedroom with her parents. She already had planned what she would wear the day before. A yellow sundress that goes to her knees is hanging from a chair with her gray flats. She slips the dress over her head and slides the flats on. Her hair is dry from her bath by now so she is able to comb it. To finish the outfit, Callie clips a sunflower barrette in her hair that her mother had found last year. She twirls around a few times in the dress, giggling. She does not get to wear this dress often and she has always loved when she can put it on.

Callie goes back into the other room and sees her baby brother has once again fallen asleep. Careful not to disturb him, she picks him up. She carries him with her and opens the door. She steps outside letting the door close and starts to walk to the Reaping.

The District Square is not far from her house and she is there within minutes. She does not sign-in right away, instead searching for her parents in the growing crowd.

"Move it along now Miss." A Peacekeeper says to her, trying to grab her arm. Callie steps back to avoid him. "I'm sorry sir, but I have to get Danny to my parents first. I can't really be holding a baby during the Reaping right?"

The Peacekeeper's eyes flicker to the baby in Callie's arms. "All right, but you should find your parents before the Reaping starts."

"Yes sir." Callie says, darting around the Peacekeeper. She continues to walk through the crowd, scanning for any sign of her parents. When the officials mount the stage, Callie finally spots her mother. She hurries over and her mother, spotting Callie, reaches out and takes Danny from her.

"Callie-" She starts to say.

"Mama the Reapings about to start, we can talk after." Callie says, and rushes back to sign in and take her place with the other 14-year-olds, very much out of breath.

"Callie." She hears her name called out. Callie turns to see her friends, Kess and Lorelei, waving to her. She goes over to them and takes Kess's hand.

"We were worried there for a moment Callie." Lorelei tells her.

"I had to find my parents to take care of Danny." She says, "How was your day?"

Her friends are not able to answer as the mayor steps up and reads his speech about the history of Panem. Callie has heard this many times and finds it much too upsetting to listen to. She looks back in the crowd toward her parents. Danny is awake now, pointing his little hand at her, probably wondering why she is separate from the family. She smiles at him and crosses her eyes. Danny laughs.

"Your little brother is adorable." Kess whispers to Callie.

"Isn't he a darling? He's so naughty though."

"He's a boy can you expect anything less?" Callie shakes her head as the District 5 escort, Isis Nerva, slowly walks in front of the microphone.

"Greetings, District 5!" She says in a soft voice. Isis is probably the oldest of the district escorts. She is about 50 or so year's old but has tried to make herself look much younger with many surgeries on her body. Her skin is pure white and is pulled so tight she has trouble moving. Her smile is much too white and looks almost painful. She wears the same outfit she always has, a spring green pantsuit with green high heels. She dyed her hair baby blue and wears it swept up in a bun. Her eye make-up is blue as well.

"Well, it-it's that time again! As always, ladies first." Isis makes her way to the bowl with the girl's names. She reaches in but she seems to have trouble grabbing onto a piece of paper. Each one she grabs slips from her hands.

Lorelei sniggers and Callie gives her a look. "What?"

"Be nice." Callie says, and Lorelei just shrugs.

Isis has finally managed to grab onto a slip and she walks back to the microphone. "And the girl tribute is…." She fumbles to unfold the piece of paper.

Lorelei chuckles. "Lorelei it's not funny to laugh at someone who has trouble-"

"Callie Breck!" Callie snaps her head up and looks at Isis, her brown eyes widening. "No." She whispers. _No this can't be happening!_

"Callie Breck!" Callie gulps, trying to hold back the tears she feels coming on. Kess gives her hand a squeeze as she pulls away and makes her way through the crowd.

The whole time she is moving toward the stage, Callie is fighting back tears. She can't let Danny see her cry it would only upset him. _But I'm never gonna see him again! I'm going to die! I'm going to die and I'll never see my baby brother again!_

That last thought does it. As soon as Callie puts her foot on the first step she bursts into tears. She climbs onto the stage, sobbing into her hands. She desperately tries to stop but she can't! She can't! _Why was it me?!_

"Shhh, there, there honey." Isis puts her arms around Callie and pulls her to her chest. Callie gulps and cries all over the woman's blouse. "Honey, settle down, settle down." Callie tries to pull herself together but when she hears a wailing start in the crowd she only sobs harder.

Danny. Danny was crying for her. He didn't know why Callie was crying but seeing her so upset set him off. Callie finally cries herself out and stands there sniffing, in front of all of District 5 and the Capitol as well.

"Well, are there any volunteers?" There is complete silence in response to the question. "Then let's move onto the boys!" Moving quicker than she has in years, Isis takes a slip from the boy's bowl and unfolds it. Probably because Callie has already caused enough of a scene.

"Seth Ouranos!" Callie wipes her eyes on her sleeve as a young boy walks up from the 13-year-old's section. He is quite short, barely as tall as Callie herself. His red hair looks like fire as he stands in the sun. His skin is as pale as chalk and he has deep black eyes that look like holes in his skull. He looks at Isis with disgust then turns his gaze toward Callie.

Callie shivers as he stares at her. There is something behind those eyes. Something…not right.

"District 5 your tributes!" Isis says, holding out her hands for applause. She receives none.

The mayor steps back up to read The Treaty of Treason. Callie looks out into the audience, directly at her family. Her parents look distressed but Danny is still crying, his little face red and blotchy. A tear comes to Callie's eye as she looks at him. Her baby brother will probably never see her again.

* * *

A loud pounding on the door awakens Garret. He lifts his head from the table and covers his ears, the pounding not helping his massive headache.

"Open up! It's the Peacekeepers! We order you to open this door!" The pounding only gets louder.

"All right! I'm coming!" Using the table for support, Garret staggers to his feet and walks over to the door. He opens the door and the sunlight blinds him. Garret rubs his eyes and squints at the Peacekeepers. "Wuh-what do you want?"

"Garret O'Neill you are to report to the Reaping immediately or you will be detained." The Peacekeeper says.

_Ugh, the Reaping of course._ "Sure, fine, I'll be there in five minutes." Garret says and makes to close the door but the Peacekeeper jams his boot in the doorway and pulls it back open. "You will report to the Reaping immediately or you will be detained Mr. O'Neill."

"Okay buddy fine. But just warning you, I have a bit of a hangover." The Peacekeepers eyes immediately go to Garret's right arm. Garret follows his gaze and realizes he is still clutching the neck of a beer bottle. It's strange how he didn't notice that before….

"Fine, you have five minutes then I arrest you." The Peacekeeper relents. Garret gives him a two-fingered salute and shuts the door. Garret sighs and turns around, placing the bottle back on the table. He shuffles along to the bathroom and turns on the water in the sink.

Garret splashes the cold water on his face, hoping it will wake him up a bit more. He runs a hand through his short brown hair, wetting it down, then places both hands on the sides of the sink and looks into the dirtied mirror. His brown eyes are rimmed with red, dark bags underneath, and his face still looks slightly green. Not one of his better mornings.

Garret had been drinking a lot more lately. He didn't really know why, it could be his job, the bills he has yet to pay, the reminder that breath he takes is one that Lisa-_no stop it, stop it now_. He doesn't know. But every night it's the same routine. He clocks out of work at eight, goes down to the liquor store, buys whatever alcohol he touches, goes back to his house and drinks until he falls asleep. He wakes up the next morning and, depending on how hung-over he is, goes back to work and starts the cycle again. All the alcohol he drinks must be unhealthy for him, but he doesn't care. Anything to ease the pain.

Garret takes a couple minutes to brush his teeth and change into some slightly nicer clothes before he walks back to the door. He puts his hand on the doorknob but does not open it.

_I'll be damned if some Peacekeeper asshole drags me by the ear to the Reaping_, he thinks to himself. So instead of opening the door, Garret crawls out the window and sneaks past the Peacekeeper waiting for him.

_That'll teach him a lesson_, Garret thinks, _not to wake me when I'm hung-over_. Unable to help himself, he takes one look back at his house. His and Lisa's house. Their home or it would have been. If it weren't for the Hunger Games.

The house isn't very large or fancy. It's a small, peaceful looking cottage, made up of a kitchen, living room and two small bedrooms. It wasn't much, but it was the perfect place to raise a family. That's why they had picked it. It was the house they would have lived out their whole lives together. The house where he could have woken up every morning to feel Lisa's breath on his face or heard her singing in the kitchen as she made breakfast. It was the house where his daughters could have run around, playing with their dolls, blue ribbons in their hair. It was the house where his son could have given him a ball and demanded his father play catch in the backyard together.

It was a perfect house for what they wanted. But that was in the past. Before Lisa had been Reaped.

Forcing himself to look away, Garret keeps his eyes on the road, trying not to stumble over the rocks. He has to blink his eyes and shake his head to keep himself from passing out again. The street was empty since everyone was already at the Reapings. He had slept well past noon and probably would have slept through the Reapings if the Peacekeeper hadn't knocked on his door. He really should get an alarm clock so he can actually be on time for once. But then again, the alarm would just make his head hurt and he would probably smash it with a hammer. He passes the graveyard, thinking about going to visit his parents but decides against it. There would be plenty time after the Reapings.

He is still looking at the graveyard when he bumps into someone. Literally bumps into, making the person stumble and lose her balance.

"Watch it!" An irritable voice says. The girl he bumped into turns her head. "Hey, asshat! I'm talking to you!"

"It would help if you moved a bit faster." Garret says, not wanting to apologize to such a rude girl.

Her eyes narrow at him. "Shut it ass, before I break your kneecaps." With that, she turns around and walks off.

_Well isn't she a ray of sunshine?_ Garret shakes his head. Hoping he won't run into her again, he starts walking up the path to the District Square, where the mayor has just walked onto the stage.

Garret happens to be _very_ familiar with that stage. He's been up there more than one time, either watching or being a part of the punishment of District 8 rebels. Garret has always been on the receiving end of the punishment and he has the back scars to prove it. He doesn't know how many times he's been whipped. The most he's ever remembered of the punishments was the third time the rebels had tried to fight the Peacekeepers. Garret had not been a victim of the Cat yet but that time he was the first to be dragged up and tied to the post. The first lash had been right in the middle of his back. The pain was enough to make his eyes water and his knees to bend. He did not cry out though, he stood firm. It was the only dignity he had left. He did not make a sound until the sixth lash which had snaked around onto his stomach. Then he screamed. He had been thirteen years old and he had screamed so that all of District 8 could hear him. Tears had rolled down his face and he had pleaded for the Peacekeeper to stop; but he did not. He kept going seven, eight, nine, twelve, fifteen, twenty times until Garret had passed out. He was hauled off the stage and was given to his parents, who carried him home and laid him on his pallet. He couldn't move for days, every part of him screaming in pain. It was Lisa, even then, who had put the medicine on his back. In a few weeks, Garret was healed and was ready for it again. He was whipped much more than twenty times in later years, but never once did he scream. No, he wouldn't allow the Peacekeepers to strip him of his dignity ever again. He took the pain and punishment and was back to fight them again. He did that until he was seventeen. He is eighteen now, and has not felt the Cat in over a year. Perhaps it's because, there is nothing left for him to fight for.

Garret signs in and walks over to where the other eighteen year-olds' are standing. The mayor is almost finished with the History of Panem speech. _I should have just stayed asleep_, Garret thinks to himself, tuning out the mayor. He notices out of the corner of his eye that some of the other boys are edging away from him. Did he really smell that bad? Or was it something else? Maybe they didn't want to be acquainted with one of District 8's most notorious rebels.

The mayor finishes his speech and the District 8 escort, Silas Pitio, takes the stage. Garret has always thought of Silas as the Human Doll. His dyed-orange skin and hair shine in the sun, looking more like plastic then flesh. His blue eyes are incredibly wide taking up the better part of his face. His mouth is always in a big grin no matter the occasion. His orange shirt has the top few buttons undone which exposes a hairless chest. He wears black pants and what looks to be black platform shoes.

_These Capitol people and their stupid fashions_, Garret thinks as Silas grins at the audience.

"Good afternoon District 8! Are you ready for the Reaping?" The Human Doll asks, rolling his tongue on the R's. The people of 8 do not respond, every single one of them glaring at the Capitol man. It's a wonder how Silas can keep his smile when the hate radiates from the audience. But then again Garret has serious doubts that the smile is even real.

"Okay! We'll start with the girls!" Silas goes over to the glass bowl holding all the girl's names and fishes out one of the pieces of paper.

"Alana Harris!" One of the girls in the 18-year-old's section swears loudly and walks up to the stage. After she has walked up the staircase and onto the stage Garret can finally get a good look at her. Alana wears a sour expression on her dark face and her green eyes glance at Silas; she looks at him like he is some kind of bug she wants to squash. Her black hair is close to the color of her skin, cut close to her head but she is very skinny for some reason. Garret realizes a few minutes later that she was the girl he had run into eariler.

When Silas turns to see her he gives a slight shriek at her appearance. Then he coughs. "My, aren't you…something." Alana growls at him and turns away.

"Okay…." Silas shakes himself and puts on his smile again. "And now for the boys." He walks over to the glass bowl for the boys and grabs the first slip his hand touches, clearly not wanting to spend any more time on stage with Alana. "Garret O'Neill!"

_Well this was bound to happen sooner or later_, is all Garret thinks as he makes his way to the stage. His parents were both part of the rebels and so is he. Lisa wasn't really a rebel but she was always there for him and his parents. It was bound to happen. The well-known rebel of District 8 had caused enough damage and now the Capitol had to get rid of him. In the most brutal way they could think of.

Garret steps onto the stage and feels a pang of guilt. He never got to visit his parents' graves. Now he probably won't even get the chance to say goodbye to them. Or to Lisa.

"Are there any volunteers?" Silas asks when Garret is on the stage. Of course no one would volunteer for him. They all know he has nothing left in District 8. And, at least if he goes maybe he will win and bring the district some money and food. Out of all of them Garret O'Neill has the best chance of surviving.

But a part of him doesn't want to survive.

* * *

District 12 took the longest time to rebuild. When the rebellion was put down the citizens of 13 were immediately relocated into District 12 and the Capitol took command of 13. The citizens had a lot of work ahead of them as most of the District was still covered in rubble and ash from the bombings. Only Victor's Village was left standing. Families were able to take refuge there until their houses were rebuilt then they were forced to move back in. The citizens of 13 were granted the houses of the citizens who had died in the bombing and in District 13. The Justice Building and District Square were the first things to be reconstructed as were the whipping post and scaffolds. After all the Peacekeepers had to establish authority among the new citizens of 12.

The only person who did not work was Haymitch Abernathy, who was under house arrest. He was allowed plenty of white liquor which was enough to keep him sedated through the 76th, 77th and 78th Hunger Games. Haymitch hardly ever spoke to anyone, not even the tributes for five years. He never cleaned his house and he never even bathed. It looked like he had just given up.

The district is still in repair as he trudges down the streets of District 12, a bottle of wine in one hand, a jagged knife in the other. Taking a swig from the bottle, he looks at the shops that are being repaired by the women. Not even on Reaping day were the citizens given a day off of the work. Haymitch has to take another swig as one of the women looks at him, her eyes full of despair, her face gaunt and thin from hunger. Haymitch merely sighs and stares at his feet as he shuffles toward the District Square.

For once in his life Haymitch is actually early for the Reapings. A few kids mill around in the square, their parents anxiously wait on the sidelines and Peacekeepers are still putting the last touches on the stage. As Haymitch climbs the stairs he is shocked to see a woman in a bright pink wig at the microphone.

"You're here? Last I heard you went nutso." He says, swallowing more of the wine, when Effie Trinket turns to greet him. She frowns and looks at the bottle in his hands. "I see you're still the same drunken old man you were five years ago." She says to him.

"And you're still the same uptight gaudy bitch you were five years ago." He shoots back. He can't help but notice the minimal make-up on Effie's face. Come to think of it she is dressed rather plainly as well. The only shocking thing about her is the wig.

It was said that Effie Trinket had been taken prisoner by the Capitol during the rebellion. They tortured her for information but when they found out she didn't have any they gave up on her. Left her in a jail cell to rot. They left her in that cell for a year after the rebellion and when they let her out, she wasn't the same Effie. This Effie didn't seem to care for fashion and was prone to bouts of depression that would overtake her at any time. No one knows what they did to her in the Capitol but whatever it was left a permanent look of emptiness in her eyes. Haymitch pities her, what they did to her was much worse than they did to him. At least he has alcohol.

"Oh we can't have that here Haymitch." She says, taking the knife from his hand, looking at him warily like he might try to use it on her. The thought has crossed his mind before but now Effie is too pitiful to hate to that extreme. Haymitch grunts and eases himself into a chair, gulping down the rest of the wine. He throws the bottle onto the stage. It crashes and breaks into a million pieces. He looks for Effie's reaction but she only nods and asks a Peacekeeper to sweep it up.

Haymitch sighs. This is going to be a long Games.

Even though hours pass by before the square is full, to Haymitch's drunken self it only seems like a few minutes. Once again he has to watch the kids' line up to be picked for slaughter, sort of like pigs on a farm. The poor saps don't have a chance at winning anymore. It seemed like a stroke of luck that the 76th finalists were both from 12 however Haymitch had suspicions that a certain President Snow was involved in helping the girl make it that far. But then the luck ran out, the rest of the kids died in the Bloodbath. Haymitch spent the rest of the Games unconscious to the world. He wasn't that upset the kids had died. There was no way he could save them. They knew, he knew it, so why even bother. A couple of them accepted their fates, the rest tried to train on their own to no avail. And, one by one, they all died.

The thing that does upset Haymitch would be the fact that there is no more Chaff to be drunk with. Chaff was probably Haymitch's only friend, the only person who could make him genuinely smile and laugh. But Chaff had died in the 75th. So now, Haymitch drinks alone.

The mayor, Haymitch can never remember this guy's name all that comes to his mind is the long dead Mayor Undersee, starts to read the History of Panem. Right around this time every year, Haymitch wishes he had a drink. This year is no different.

He grumpily scratches his head and slumps in his seat. _Let's just get this thing over with so I can get onto the train and into the bar._

The mayor finishes and Effie steps up to the microphone. She puts a big smile on for the crowd, but it is lacking the enthusiasm that she normally shows. "Welcome to this year's Reaping District 12!" She says, "Now it is time again to pick one young man and woman to participate in this year's Hunger Games!" This may not be the same Effie but her voice still grates Haymitch's ears. "We'll start with the ladies, as always!" Effie removes one of her gloves as she walks over to the glass ball. Her hand hovers over it for a second and Haymitch can swear he sees a slight look of hesitation cross her face. Maybe he didn't, for she plunges her hand into the bowl and picks out a name.

Effie Trinket unfolds the slip of paper and reads the name on it. "Sabrina Tudor!"

The crowd starts to murmur as they part to let a girl from the 16-year-old section through. Haymitch can understand why they are daring to whisper to their friends as the girl walks up onto the stage. He has never seen or heard of this Sabrina girl and clearly neither has the rest of District 12. This is odd. District 12 is so small practically everyone has been acquainted with each other. It is common to not know a first name, but a last name like Tudor has never existed in District 12. Perhaps she was from District 13.

Sabrina has light blonde hair and stormy grey eyes. She is of average height, though she seems to have some muscles in her calves from what Haymitch can see since her blue dress goes to her knees. Maybe she is merchant class? Not likely. Sabrina's expression is impassive when Effie greets her. She does not speak, but she looks out into the audience, as if a bored of these proceedings. Haymitch wonders if this is all an act and that she is trying to act like she is stronger than she looks. Maybe she has a secret weapon or talent.

"Are there any volunteers?" Effie asks. Haymitch looks out into the audience but there are no Katniss Everdeen's willing to take the girl's place. "Then we'll move onto the boys." Effie takes a slip from the boys' glass bowl and unfolds it. "Nix Palais!" _Well that's a name_.

Haymitch looks out into the audience and sees a boy walking up and the rest of the 17-year-old's edge away from him. Nix seems a bit shocked at first but starts grinning when he reaches the stage. He has spiky blonde hair and brown eyes, with a twinkle of mischief in them. His smile is strange to see, why would someone be smiling when they've just been Reaped? Haymitch would say this was an act as well, but he knows this boy is not acting.

Now Haymitch actually does recognize Nix. Not by name but from that glint of mischief in his eye and that smile that he wears whenever he has caused trouble. Nix is very famous around the district for his pranks on Peacekeepers. He once lifted the toupee of the Head Peacekeeper with a line of twine and a make-shift fishing hook. He was whipped for that but that's the worst of punishments he has received. The rest have been extra work, less food, more school work, etc. Nix is also known for his sarcasm and wit. He has some nice muscles from all the manual labor he's had to do and he is very smart as well. Good-looking, strong, clever, _we might have a winner here_, Haymitch thinks to himself, _I already like him_. It might be because Nix reminds him a bit of himself before his Games. He'll have to get closer to this kid during training.

The mayor steps back up and reads the Treaty of Treason. Haymitch knows neither of the kids are listening, both of them are staring out into the audience, Sabrina with an unreadable expression, Nix still has the grin on his face. When Effie tells them to shake hands. Nix leans forward a bit and whispers something to Sabrina. Haymitch has to crane his neck to hear him.

_Let's show those Capitol freaks what District 12 is made of_.

Sabrina makes no response, but she tilts her head as if curious to why this boy would be so friendly to her.

Effie guides the tributes into the Justice Building and the crowd disperses. Haymitch tries to get one last look at the tributes before heading to the train. He is shocked to see Sabrina looking right back at him. She holds his eyes for a moment then gives the smallest of nods. Then she is gone.

**This chapter is 31 pages long on Microsoft Word… and I have proof read this about 12 times. I bet I still missed some stuff though. You're welcome.**

**I am well aware that not all these POV's are equal, Skyler, Max and Callie's being the longest. But there is much more to Harley and Garret and that you will see in later chapters. Can you guess who the main of District 12 is? I'll give you a hint, it's not Haymitch. **

**So those are the main characters of this story. Harley and Max from District 1, Skyler from 4, Callie from 5, Garret from 8 and one of the tributes from 12. Seth, Alana, and the other tribute from 12 will also have pretty big roles to play in this story.**

**Hope the chapter was worth the wait. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, favorite, followed, etc. this story! I will get another chapter out soon.**

**- THE-BANNED-AUTHOR**


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